Shonen
by Abdiel
Summary: Kurama deals with the usual goings-on in his life when an unknown entity suddenly gets Hiei.
1. Prologue: First to Last

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please. I'm very poor.

Well, I'm a newbie here... but all C&C are acceptable.

* * *

**Prologue: First to Last**

* * *

Kurama, also known as Shuichi Minamino, stared vacantly at the tall, tapered-chin pretty boy in front of him. During the past six months he'd spent at his school, this particular issue had become as old as... well, he was. He braced himself for what was to come. 'How can I put this gently?'

"Well, did you like the flowers?" the brown-haired youth earnestly asked, expectation clear in his voice. Kurama's face thusly turned blue. 'Oh yeah, this is going to be fun.'

"To tell you honestly... the flowers were nice..." Kurama began. His left eye was already twitching, and it took the combined efforts of his underlying demon fox form as well as his own willpower to prevent himself from losing what little lunch he had eaten.

Not that there was anything wrong with male-to-male relations, but the man in front of Kurama was going under a mistaken assumption that was sure to leave neither of them happy.

"And?" The guy jumped forward, taking hold of Kurama's shoulders.

This was already forming into a scene taken straight from a comic book. A boy's love amateur comic, to be exact... not that Kurama was into reading such things, of course. He shuddered in dread and loathing. He wanted to punch the guy and set him-pardon the pun-straight, but he was afraid to ruin his good reputation as a perfect student.

"But I really can't accept them," Kurama said simply.

"Nonsense!" cried the boy, a spark of hope lighting up inside him in spite of the rejection. 'So, she's the traditionally shy type kind of girl...' he thought joyfully.

"Because..." Kurama continued, totally ignoring him, "I'm really a boy."

"..." was the guy's witty response.

Sighing-Kurama was not too keen on hurting people, unless necessary-he scurried away from the very sorry scene of a very broken-hearted boy. 'That went well.'

"Why me?" Kurama asked no one in particular, rewarding himself with odd looks from those who didn't realize what had just happened, and snickers from those who did.

* * *

Ever since he arrived in Meiou High, Kurama's days had all been like this. Well, perhaps 'all' was a bit of an exaggeration, but it sounded rather apt to the redhead, because it certainly felt like all of his days were filled with incidents like the one described above.

He had more than his share of admirers... half of which were male and half of those males _knew _he was a male. It was a taxing situation for Shuichi Minamino... the good human son of Shiori Minamino... and downright embarrassing for the once feared youko known as Kurama.

But his admirers weren't the only ones at fault here. By acting the way that he did, he made them desire him all the more. His long, red hair certainly wasn't helping matters either, but he would not even consider cutting it.

So he decided, once and for all, to simply ignore such unfortunate occurrences. If they thought of him as a woman, or as a suitable target for male affection, then that was _their_ problem. He was above such things.

"Hello, miss. You seem all alone. May I accompany you?"

"..."

Nevertheless, youko or not, Kurama... or rather, Minamino... was still a human being deep in his heart, which was his demon's self synonym for the word 'flawed'. Who could blame the guy for getting pissed once in a while? Even Minamino, as long a fuse as he had, had his limits.

"I'm a guy, and I'm not interested. Now please leave me alone," Kurama said in a calm yet unnerving voice that sent shivers to the base of the guy's spine.

Sighing yet again, he left another hapless, dumbstruck male behind. 'So, only two this afternoon... Today must be a good day. Oh joy.'

* * *

Shuichi Minamino was a good boy. He would never leave his house without his mother's permission. An obedient boy to the core, he always did what he was told to do. So he usually left his penchant for disobedience to Kurama's stead.

It made him think, at times, that he had three instead of two personalities: the good son, Shuichi Minamino; the cruel youko thief who he had been back in his past life in the Demon World; and Kurama, the gray shade halfway between the two. Neither fully human nor fully demon, Kurama was, in his opinion, his true self.

What got him to stay up late in the middle of the night for hours on end? A little fire demon named Hiei. Kurama usually waited on this spot in the middle of a park near a tree where the 'little bastard', as Kuwabara would call him, usually slept.

Tonight, he was supposed to alert Hiei to join him and the other detectives to investigate, as always, some strange happenings in the Human World. Koenma, Prince of the Spirit World, had even said that he would offer Hiei's freedom in exchange for his services in this mission. As expected, the mission seemed to be truly a matter of great consequence for such a thing to be offered.

'What's taking him so long?' Kurama thought, worried about his youkai friend. 'Has something happened, Hiei?'

* * *

Two figures stood in the darkness of a rundown alley. One figure, the smaller one, was in a defensive stance. The other loomed over him.

"Who are you?" Hiei seethed, his hand grasping the hilt of his katana. He already had several bruises all over his body, as well as a small trickle of blood below his chapped lips.

"I seek only one thing, koorime," the dark figure in chain-mail armor said in a blank monotone. "A soul."

"Humph," was Hiei's response. After only a slight pause, he prepared his next and most powerful attack.

"Jaou-En-Satsu-Kokuryuha!"

'No holding back now. I've already tried everything,' Hiei thought.

A conflagration of black flames in the form of a demonoid dragon spirit emerged. The dark figure easily evaded the flaming black dragon headed towards him with impressive speed, despite his heavy armor. He then ripped apart his breastplate revealing... nothingness. It was a cavity in his own body. It sucked the Kokuryuha into itself like a vacuum. Hiei was shocked to see the cavity eat his attack whole, and then remain just as empty as it was before.

"You're a spirited one," the undead creature said in a cadaverous tone. He seemed rather bored, his expression flat and one-dimensional despite his effeminate looks. He certainly didn't mind the gaping hole in the middle of his chest. "Any more tricks, koorime?"

Hiei flinched at being called an 'ice lady', but was too tired to use his ire to his advantage. He was exhausted from using his most powerful attack so soon. But he wasn't one to give up easily. If anything, his pride wouldn't allow it.

The being stared at the fire demon blankly. He merely stood there, chest cavity exposed, waiting patiently for Hiei's next attack.

Disappearing into a blur, Hiei slashed at the figure in chain mail; twenty-two strikes in less than a second. His sword swished through the seemingly undead person like a knife through butter... or through air.

Hiei looked at his opponent warily. Perfectly intact, the being gave him an unsettling stare.

"Bravo."

As he spoke the word, he shifted and punched Hiei. Several of his bones shattered from the impact, causing him to lurch forward and cough blood. "I'll leave you now. You have nothing for me."

So Hiei just lay there in the alleyway, battered and beaten. He stifled a gasp as he heard the last words his opponent spoke before he fell into unconsciousness.

"It's Minamino Shuichi whom I want."

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Who is this powerful man with an infinitely deep portal for a chest?

I know... very unclear premise. It _is_ my first fic anyway. I just hope things would get clearer by the first chapter.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen__-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	2. Chapter 1: Seeds

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

C&C is the soul of the fanfic. It is a just an empty shell of its former self without it. So, if you would please... C&C.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Seeds**

* * *

Darkness. This was what greeted Hiei as he came to. A flat darkness that made no difference whether or not he opened his eyes. However, it brought him a certain sense of relief to be in the dark. It was... comforting to him.

Darkness. To some it was a symbol of fear... of coldness... of death. But to him it was a welcome sight. Was he not a former resident of the Demon World, which was always filled with veritable darkness? And, as accompaniment to this darkness, were there not also fear, coldness, and death?

Yes, he was familiar with fear, whether it was in the eyes of an opponent faced with imminent death by his hand or his own fear of some great power finally destroying him in the end. He always had a degree of respect for power; he himself was a firm believer of the rule, "Survival of the Fittest". Outside of that, he had nothing else to fear.

Coldness. It was a relative term to him. He was used to it. Perhaps it was because of his mixed koorime lineage, but at times he drew comfort from the cold the same way humans drew comfort from warmth. Whatever. He felt as he felt, it held no importance to him.

Death. It was a loaded word to many people, but to him it simply meant the end. He was never afraid of the finality death brought; he actually looked forward to it. He was glad by the fact that he was given a reason for being since the time of his birth. An image of an ice lady who was the last thing he saw before he was inexplicably thrown into a chasm in his infancy, as well as images of his... of Yukina... filled his groggy mind. They represented his reasons for being.

Death had been a constant threat to him since the time of his banishment from the Land of the Koorime, yet he had always done with it like a human game of Russian Roulette with his opponents. He could never die, not him. Not even death could stop him from what he had to do. But if there came a time when all ends were tied, he would welcome his demise like an old friend... by means of a warrior's death, no less. But until then-

"Hiei! Hiei! What's happened to you!" It was the kitsune. That damned fox demon came through for him, as usual.

Darkness... the goddamned darkness. It came to him quicker than he had anticipated. How embarrassing-to faint in front of Kurama, no less. Yet he felt a strange feeling of comfort as a thought surfaced in his mind before he finally slipped into unconsciousness.

'Until next time, old friend.'

* * *

Kurama breathed a sigh of relief once he found where his fire demon friend lay. Then a wave of concern hit him once he realized the sorry state Hiei was in. His analytical eye surveyed the amount of damage his friend attained as he assessed the situation carefully.

Hiei's unconscious state was probably due to fatigue from using his ultimate attack, the Kokuryuha, as well as various other factors manifested by the demon's countless contusions and bruises. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt in Kurama's mind. Hiei was beaten in a fight. There was a time when Hiei was in worse shape. His burnt right hand had given him a whole new world of pain during the Ankoku Bujutsukai.

Kurama stopped in mid-thought as the youkai moaned. But still, Hiei was going to be really pissed off once he woke up. Kurama suppressed a giggle at the thought. That was Hiei; he with the legendary pride.

Kurama quickly sobered up from his mirth and turned his attention to the situation at hand. He scanned the surrounding area. True enough, the rubble and debris gave more weight to his suspicions; a battle had actually occurred. But he'd expected a lot more wreckage from the surrounding area because of the apparent involvement of the Kokuryuha.

'It must have been stopped somehow, or else there would have been a _lot_ more wreckage here,' Kurama reckoned as he further surveyed the area. It was a narrow alley, and even though one would expect a bit of filthiness in this sort of place, it was still pretty obvious that there had been a struggle.

But no matter how many times Kurama inspected the immediate environs, he could find no sign of Hiei's supposed rival. If he didn't find the idea absurd, he could have almost sworn Hiei hurt himself with the Kokuryuha-which was simply not the case, because Hiei would have just absorbed the attack, if ever.

'I'm too late. He's already gone,' Kurama thought as he continued his investigation. 'Whoever _he_ is.'

Kurama checked out his nearby surroundings beyond the alley. True enough, because it was already past midnight, there was not a soul in sight. The streets were empty, slightly illuminated by what few lights remained open on this side of the city. It was an entire block of urban poverty. He walked back to the fallen demon, his stare lingering at the rooftops of the nearby apartments.

Kurama gently picked up his friend, gingerly staring at his face. Hiei was softly snoring now, probably due to exhaustion more than anything else. From there, the youko quietly leaped over the surrounding buildings, cradling Hiei's body all throughout. He wordlessly jumped from one rooftop to another, his mind filled with questions that left him troubled and anxious.

"Who? Who was it? Why?" Kurama accidentally asked aloud, the questions echoing in the entire block, as if they were mocking him.

* * *

"What the HELL?" was the calm assessment Yusuke Urameshi gave to the situation Kurama related to him. Kurama, on his part, stayed calm and composed as he'd always been in the past few minutes of the dialogue. Yusuke had no intention of even budging from the doorway of his home. Kurama sighed as he continued to inform the younger man of the past events.

"That's right, Yusuke. Someone beat up Hiei, and I don't know who. Hiei's been beat up real bad, so that's why he's still unconscious. I can't worry about kaasan discovering Hiei since she'd never seen him before, so that's why he has to stay here in your apartment for the time being, while your mother is away," Kurama carefully repeated, putting his words into terms the younger boy could easily understand. That was because Yusuke was quite the... excitable type, and Kurama couldn't risk a misunderstanding at this point in time.

Yusuke simply stared back at Kurama as if the kitsune had told him that he was about to be tied up and given the whipping of his life-or something similarly disturbing. It took the boy sometime to evaluate the situation before saying, "Oh, I get it!"

Kurama sighed in relief. "That's good, Yusuke."

Yusuke nodded eagerly. "This is some kind of practical joke made by that bastard, Kuwabara, isn't it? Well, just let me at him, Kurama. I'll rearrange his ugly face seven ways to HELL!"

If Kurama was a lesser man, he would have facefaulted. The fact remained that he was the Legendary Youko, so the best that he could do was sweatdrop. All vestiges of gravity on his face were replaced by wide-eyed confusion as he non-characteristically said, "Huh?"

Kurama simply fell silent at that point. He had no idea how to reply to that sort of statement. Yusuke always had that effect on him. So he motioned towards the nearby tree in the yard and the teen was off. He counted the seconds before hearing an expected dead silence. '...Two. Three.'

Kurama slowly approached Yusuke as the now dumbstruck teenager gaped at a peacefully sleeping Hiei. Although the demon was a sight in himself to behold, what with all his loud snoring, it was obvious that the sheer amount of bruises the youkai sported was really the clincher to Yusuke's shock.

Hiei looked worse off than after battling Bui in the finals of the Ankoku Bujutsukai. Yusuke could not believe that the fire demon was beaten so thoroughly... not after he'd finally mastered the Kokuryuha and was able to keep up against S-Class Demon Lords like Mukuro. It bordered on nigh-impossible at that point.

Kurama patted the younger boy's back. "Now do you get it, Yusuke?"

"Hey, Kurama. You weren't kidding. Hiei has been beaten up real bad," Yusuke noted the obvious, looking warily at the sleeping demon. "Who... did this to him?"

Kurama smirked at Yusuke's sentiment. The unofficial leader of the Spirit Detectives was never one to ask who or why. Most of the time, he acted before he thought. Still, Kurama's seriousness eventually won over his mirth as he related in a somber voice, "I have no idea, Yusuke. I simply saw him like this in an alley. I'm not sure who or what could have done such a thing."

Yusuke hefted Hiei's body over his shoulders. The fire demon hybrid shifted his weight, groaning in pain.

"Careful, Yusuke. Hiei's ribs are broken. I've given him some herbs to dull the pain, but there's nothing else I could do. The fractures are closed, but any more shifting and they could become dislocated."

"Sorry, I'll be careful. But we don't have a stretcher. How are we going to lift Hiei into the apartment?" Yusuke asked.

"The same way I put him near the tree," Kurama answered nonchalantly.

Faster than Yusuke could decipher with his eyes, Kurama lifted Hiei up, the latter's body straight and seemingly floating in the kitsune's arms. And, in the same way he wafted through the alley a while ago, he effortlessly entered the Urameshi residence, seemingly gliding with each step.

Yusuke had seen how fast Kurama moved before, but he hadn't seen him use it under these circumstances. He followed the two into his room and caught up with them just as Kurama was already lightly placing Hiei on his living room futon.

"That sure was cool, Kurama," Yusuke enthused appreciatively. He turned his attentions back at the slumbering youkai and made a face. "You're really going to make me baby-sit this little bastard?"

Kurama laughed daintily. It was hard to keep a serious disposition in the company of the earnest young lad. "Your call... though I could always come over and look after him myself."

Yusuke looked at Kurama and smiled. "You don't have to bother with that. I'll have a fun night with shorty here. He's in good hands." He couldn't help but grin evilly at the last statement.

Kurama just looked at Yusuke before chuckling at that. "I'm sure you'll both have fun together."

Yusuke merely grinned in kind before adding thoughtfully, "Does Koenma know about what happened? Because we've never been attacked _outside_ of a mission before."

"Yes, but you have to admit, there were those missions where we simply stumbled upon the enemy. We just reassessed our bearings if ever we were attacked first," Kurama brought up. "But I agree, this was the first time we were directly attacked _before_ we went against whatever agenda our enemy had."

Yusuke nodded to that. "Hey, have you seen Botan lately? She's usually the one supplying the facts for this sort of thing."

Kurama shrugged. "She typically contacts you first, _then_ gets a hold of the rest of us afterwards for backup, as though you were the main character of the story or something."

"Heh. Spare me. What _usually_ happens is that we tend to stumble into each other during the course of a mission," Yusuke countered, a impish smile once again sneaking in the corners of his mouth.

"Our modus operandi." Kurama smiled back. "Just remember, as much as possible, don't let Hiei out of the house. He's in no shape to cavort around the Human World, swearing vengeance upon whoever did this to him."

Yusuke idly nodded, though he knew that him stopping Hiei from chasing after the supposed new enemy was as likely as, well, him stopping _himself_ from doing the very same thing, if he could help it.

"I'll be having a word with Genkai tomorrow. She'd know what to do. Still..." Kurama trailed off, pensively adding, "I'm almost certain that the Spirit World has something to do with this incident. Call it a gut feeling."

"And I'll be having a word with that pacifier-sucking brat once we finally meet as well," Yusuke assured, cracking his knuckles to illustrate his point. "Once we get this cleared out, we'll kick some demon ass and get this over with, pure and simple."

'Pure and simple. Unfortunately, this situation is anything but,' the redhead considered. 'Hiei _used_ the Kokuryuha-an attack that's even more powerful than a fully charged Rei-Gan. If ever Yusuke or any of us came across... _him_, it's doubtful that we'd have a chance against the creature. And what of the mission Koenma informed us on? Why did Koenma summon Hiei and me? Was it like before, when he notified Hiei first about the mission concerning the kidnapping of Yukina?' More questions pervaded into Kurama's consciousness, yet no sure explanation presented itself.

As Kurama bade his farewell to Yusuke, the questions he said hours ago resurfaced on his mind and echoed back and forth in his psyche. Who? Who did this? Why?

Why?

* * *

Kurama stared at the ceiling of his room. As a youkai, he had his own kind of third eye for sensing trouble that's altogether different from Hiei's literal third eye. But it was usually reserved for sneak attacks or for recognizing the ki of his enemies during battle.

His sense of premonition in this situation was entirely different. It was something that humans were more familiar with-that feeling of dread whenever something bad was about to happen. Through this emotion came a jargon of semi-coherent thought.

'What if that thing suddenly goes after Yusuke or Kuwabara? The odds are certainly against them, with him having beaten Hiei. How is Hiei faring anyway? I hope he survives. What if this _thing_ goes after me? I think I could handle it. But what about kaasan...?'

Kurama froze at the last thought. There was a noise coming from his mother's room-somewhat akin to metal clanking on the floor. The redhead instinctively ran to his mother, fearing the worse, then heaved a sigh of relief once he saw her safe and sound by the window. She was doing some needlework and her toolkit just fell. She was a bit startled though, and was now looking at Kurama with worry in her eyes.

"Shuichi, is there something wrong?" Shiori Minamino, his mother, asked.

Kurama let out a slight laugh. "No... Nothing's wrong, kaasan. I was just a little worried by the noise. What are you doing?"

'Shuichi's' mother brightened up with his last statement. "I've decided to take up needlework as a hobby, son. I'm a little rough at it, though. I haven't done this since I was a child." She let out a delicate laugh, to which Kurama could not help but laugh with as well. It had always reminded him of tinkling bells ever since he first heard it as a child.

From there on end, an animated discussion on needlework followed. Actually, it was more like Kurama listening and Shiori making detailed accounts about the wonderful world of needle and thread. This kind of situation may bore to death any other boy his age, but Kurama had high regard and respect for his mother and whatever she did.

After the discussion was finished, Kurama left Shiori with her hobby. He mouthed the words, "Oyasumi nasai, okaasan. Ai shiteiru," in the doorway of his mother's room, to which he got the silent reply of "Good night, Shuichi. I love you too."

In the outer hallway of the Minamino residence, Kurama swore to himself, 'I won't let any monster touch my kaasan. Not even one hair.'

* * *

On a cliff overlooking the dance of sea waves, he stood. It was he who was able to stand up to a fire demon-koorime hybrid without even breaking a sweat. Huh. Breaking a sweat. He'd laugh at the thought, if he could. He hadn't broken a sweat or laughed at anything for years, and he felt dead inside because of it.

He continued gazing into the horizon. The moon was still shining as brightly as it could. The waves continued pounding on the rocks. The leaves of the trees in the surrounding area of the cliff all rustled from the stiff sea breeze. He couldn't care less for such peace. If anything, all of it irritated his senses-irritation and senses being relative terms.

He breathed heavily, probably more out of habit than anything else. He hefted his entire breastplate off, revealing a cavity in his chest. It was a dark chasm, as dark as his skin was pale. The breeze became stronger and began stroking his long, straight hair, strands of it flying all over his face. His violet eyes became slits as his concentration intensified. The fire demon had fed him quite nicely, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. He hungered for more.

The wind blew more fiercely as the waves started to pound furiously on the rocks below. The moon shone more brightly than ever before. Everything intensified and bristled to life. The blades of grass became greener and more alive, as if they were breathing. The rustling leaves became animated as well. In color, sound, sharpness, smell and touch: most everything became exaggerated. It was as if he could smell again, breath again, touch again, and see again-all at the same time and with more exuberance and feeling. Then it was all released into the ether as he whispered the words:

"Jaou-En-Satsu-Kokuryuha."

The Dragon of the Darkness Flame emerged, slowly dissipating into embers as it crashed into the sea below. What occurred afterwards was strange indeed. It was as if an explosion happened in reverse. Everything died down: the waves calmed, the waters became stagnant; the grass died then and there; the trees slowly shed their leaves as if it were autumn, their trunks suddenly decaying. Everything in the surrounding area had a deathly pallor. No color. No life.

The effeminate man sighed. Even the moon's sheen seemed dimmer than before. But he ignored all this as he nonchalantly picked up his breastplate, replaced it on his cavity and went on his way. This was all routine for him. He was way beyond feeling any emotion. He did what he had to do and that was that.

Yet he hadn't killed Hiei. It could've given him a few more days of exuberant life, yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. No. He hadn't killed anyone ever since he discovered that there was a way for his one loose end to be tied, finally giving him the closure he yearned for so long.

There was a way. There was a way he could still give meaning to his damned existence. She was finally here, in the flesh. She'd at last come back to him after sixteen long years of waiting, and he now had the opportunity to correct the mistakes of his past by fulfilling her will to live and rescuing her from the damnation that he himself wrought upon her.

Centuries ago, she traveled with him up until the time he turned into a monster. She then desperately offered her soul to cure him of his terminal illness. Yes, the cure; she thought herself and her love for him to be the cure for his damnation. She gave it her all. She died trying.

But now she was back. He would soon be given a second chance, but not to selfishly use her return to save himself. No. He had learned his lesson from before and would never again put her through such a nightmare. The fact that she came back signified a new lease in _her_ life, not his.

Nothing could stop him now, not while it was in her will to live on and reestablish her broken string of fate. This was his final mission: To make amends and undo his sin hundreds of years past. This was his last chance. He would do everything in his power to bring about her rebirth. In a way, she was still his salvation. She was his last thread of humanity. Her will was his will. He would not fail.

"Asuka-san. You've come back to me," he whispered silently to the dead waters of the sea.

* * *

"Kurama!" Hiei yelled in his sleep, which awoke a very irritable Yusuke from his.

"Hey, what's the big-Oh, you're finally awake," Yusuke muttered in yawning breaths, still rubbing his eyes off of the remnants of drowsiness. "Kurama wasn't kidding when he called you a noctu... noctu... a night person."

Hiei simply deadpanned at the dumbass... or some Demon World expletive he wanted to refer to the teenage boy which escaped him at the moment. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Yusuke shot back casually as he cleaned his ears with his pinky.

"Kurama," Hiei elucidated.

"Back at his kaasan's. What's it to you?"

Hiei was getting annoyed. He knew that the... human, for lack of a better term, was toying with him. He could have clopped off the... human's arm right then and there, only that his katana was missing. 'Damn.' The Kokuryuha was out of the question, so that left-

From a passerby's point of view, one could almost swear that there was a mini-earthquake happening at one side of the apartment building where a certain Yusuke Urameshi happened to be taking residence.

"YOWCH! You couldn't take a joke, could'ya?" Yusuke chortled gleefully. He was now in a stranglehold care of a certain angry fire demon. The teen glanced back at Hiei and, with a simple movement of his head, butted him on the forehead.

Hiei recoiled. Yusuke took the opportunity to direct some punches at the jaganshi's face. After three quick jabs, he quickly backed up to ready an uppercut. Hiei knew this was a ruse and simply blocked both the uppercut and the planned hook after it. With his jagan opened, the fire demon was able to counter every strike, which he followed up each time with heavy blows of his own.

Yusuke was surprised that Hiei was still able to put up a decent fight, considering his condition. He abruptly adjusted his speed and began a dance of blow-parry-blow with the demon. Both produced an equal amount of damage to each other, up until Yusuke accidentally ribbed Hiei, which made the latter crumple on the ground.

Yusuke wiped off the trickle of blood on his mouth as he surveyed the damage surrounding him. 'Wow. We were really going at it for quite a while,' he thought, amazed at the whirlwind that leveled their side of the Urameshi apartment. Another thing Yusuke noticed was that he was looking through one eye now, his left eye swollen shut. In any case, the teenager readied himself as the fire demon slowly stood up.

"I never thought you'd resort to a cheap shot, Yusuke," Hiei spat with a smirk plastered on his face.

"You don't look like no slacker either, Hiei," Yusuke conceded, pointing at the jaganshi suspiciously. "How was it possible that you were beaten up so thoroughly, then? Did you throw the fight or did you do something stupid and let the other guy win? You can take on S-Class demons now, you spiky-haired knucklehead! What's wrong with you?"

Hiei was taken aback. How dare the bastard think that his skills were slacking! Still, he was ashamed to admit, he was hurled around like a piece of wet cloth in his last fight. His bruises and fractures flared in pain as a reminder of that. As such, his ensuing reply was broken up and hesitant.

"He... He was no o-ordinary demon," he finished with his eyes darting back and forth across the room.

Yusuke savored the moment of uncharacteristic confusion on the demon's part. Still, he himself was more than a bit flummoxed with the fact that Hiei could be manhandled so easily. "What was it that attacked you? Did it have a face?" He cracked his knuckles. "If he has a face, I can certainly rearrange it."

To this, Hiei sneered, "Humph. You'd be in worse shape than I if you ever faced that monster."

"We'll see." Yusuke then stared oddly at Hiei as the demon suddenly froze. The sleek-haired teen quite possibly hadn't seen the demon so troubled save the times when he teased him about Yukina's true identity. "What?"

Hiei suddenly prepared to take his leave. Yusuke almost missed Hiei as he made a grab for the fire demon's arm. "Hiei, what the hell's the matter with you?"

The fire demon gave Yusuke a livid look. "Let go, you idiot! The monster is after Kurama! We've got to warn him! He's going to kill the damn kitsune!"

* * *

On a treetop overlooking a house stood an armor-clad figure. He appeared heavy in his garb, yet it seemed like he was floating on the branches and leaves. He maintained his stance as he observed the neighboring area of the property. Sure enough, he soon saw what he was looking for.

"Such loveliness," he whispered. He let the words float in the air, relishing their smoothness they echoed across the landscape. He swooped down, now truly suspended in midair, towards the second-story window of the Minamino residence.

There she was, like a fragrant rose bud. 'You always did remind me of that.' She walked slowly in her room, fresh and clean like a newborn, slipping into the bed sheets as elegantly as only she could.

She was supposed to save him from the silent screams-from agony and pain and the absence of agony and pain. There were times when a person would rather have pain than emptiness.

But now that she was here, reborn, his plans had changed. He could feel her will to live surging through that human shell. She came back after she was stolen from him by another. Regardless, his devotion remained only to her and her alone.

'Let me take her now or else be damned forevermore,' he had said once upon a time, and that ultimately led to both their damnations. But now that their situation was reversed, he would now serve as her salvation this time around. He had been damned for so long; but now, she had arrived to give his subsistence some worth and consequence once again.

He had killed so many. He knew of their faces. They were forever etched in his memory. They were a part of him-every fiber of their beings. They belonged to him now. They screamed in horror... silent shrieks. The silence was deafening to him.

Even now, the screams remained. The silence remained.

The emptiness ate his whole being, if he could still considered a being, and not just some tool of mass destruction.

He currently had one goal; to bring her back the life and identity that was supposed to hers but was stolen from her. It was neither a simple goal nor would it automatically resolve all of the troubles he'd caused her after so many centuries. All the same, doing so was for her own good.

He had no life left to sacrifice for her, but he was willing to use up whatever was left of his shattered soul to give her back the fate and destiny she was supposed to have in the first place.

However, the fulfillment of his final task wasn't only up to him, but also up the person who stole his beloved's shattered soul from him. The armored shadow man had no willpower to speak of, but through that person and the influence of her spirit inside of him, they could all soon bring her destiny back on track. Their will shall be done.

He gingerly fingered the glass pane of his beloved's window, heaving a wistful, breathless sigh; an apology for his past sins. He was truly sorry that his attempts at salvation and the salvation of many others had come at the cost of his angel's tears.

He intimated his last apology, and disappeared. He simply disappeared.

* * *

Kurama stirred in his sleep. He was usually beyond the frivolities of emotion, but tonight, there were at the forefront. Since his days as a youko thief, he never had an opportunity to express his feelings. He was Kurama, the ice-cold killer of the Demon World: immovable, indestructible, cunning, and calculating-the same Kurama who was now letting his fears and worries finally surface.

Was this true? The cruel youko thief, the one who always knew what to do in any situation, was feeling apprehensive? 'Well, of course,' he berated himself. He let his doubts emerge because he was smart enough to be honest with himself. He had no idea of the truth behind the situation and it was a natural reaction for humans to fear the unknown. And he was human. 'Well, sort of,' Kurama thought sardonically.

This was nothing more than him acknowledging his emotions, instead of wearing that mask of cruelty and calculating assuredness that he always wore to face uncertain situations.

Heart of Ice, Soul of Steel; these were what characterized his long and arduous life as a youko thief in the Demon World. No mercy. Kill or be killed.

Enough. Things were different now. How? He didn't know.

All he knew was that he was afraid for his mother. His dear, sweet mother whose life had been threatened constantly because of him. 'Hiei.' Hiei was injured and beaten badly, and Kurama blamed himself for not being there for the fire demon when it counted. Just like with Kuronue.

Kurama went to sleep. He didn't expect himself to drift into slumber so soon. In moments, there was only stillness. Soon, the nightmares began.

There was darkness-a flat, dull darkness. Then came a flicker of light from a glinting jewel swaying along the emptiness. It began to give form. Then there were strands-long strands of shiny hair. Features soon gained depth. A long thin mouth came into view, forming into a smile. Afterwards, narrow yet mischievous eyes fluttered into existence.

The long strands of hair played with the strange person's features as it effortlessly merged with the void. It was a play of contrast of light and darkness as his pale skin and playful eyes shone like the jewel gently swaying on his neck. Back and forth it swayed, like the swinging blade of a flying guillotine.

Kuronue.

The scene replayed itself painfully. The loss was silly, stupid. The irony of it all lay in its stupidity and silliness. Then came the gentle tinkling-like a little bell.

His smiling face casually glanced back at the jewel he accidentally dropped. He couldn't be stopped. That jewel meant a lot to him. He promised that he would come back-all that for a simple necklace that he always wore a certain way. He was always so headstrong. He always went about things in a straightforward manner.

This... his efforts to always be true to himself... led to his own death.

Bamboo shoots shot up as Kuronue was helplessly caught in the elaborate deathtrap. Blood dripped mercilessly on the ground; an unwanted blood offering. He still clasped the jewel with his right hand in an iron grip. It gently swayed in the wind.

It swayed back and forth, glinting... like a flying guillotine.

Darkness.

* * *

Yusuke Urameshi was having a hard time.

For one thing, it was quite hard for a person such as him to stop a crazed fire demon-koorime hybrid from accomplishing whatever stupid, reckless, and totally irresponsible thing said demon wanted to accomplish. Mainly because he wanted in on whatever stupid, reckless, and totally irresponsible thing said demon wanted to accomplish.

Life was good for Yusuke Urameshi.

"He was _that_ powerful?" Yusuke gasped, literally salivating in delight. Boy, it had been a while since he'd sunk his teeth into a real, honest-to-goodness mission. Ever since that incident with the rogue demons from a separate Demon World... the Meikai, a sort of Nether World counterpart of the Reikai... nearly conquered the Human World, there hadn't been another challenge that quite matched up with that. "He simply _ate_ the Kokuryuha! That's great! Where did you meet him?"

"We just met. He was in an alley. He was looking for someone. He seemed tired. I was there," Hiei informed cryptically. He would rather not waste any more of his time with the stupid, sleek-haired, half-demon bastard if he could help it.

But if all it took was to join forces with Yusuke to defeat the monster, then Hiei was willing to tolerate the inexplicably overpowered Spirit Detective's annoying antics.

"What do you mean, 'He seemed tired'? Could it be that he was some sort of ki vampire?" Yusuke queried.

Hiei merely shrugged to that. "It doesn't matter."

"Well, if he were a ki vampire, why didn't you just slash him to death like you usually do other demons?"

"He was like a spirit. It didn't work on him. The blade just passed through him."

In one of those rare instances of insight, Yusuke knew he couldn't just blast this unknown entity with a Rei-Gan straight to hell. He already fought one of those demons, in fact. His precious attack was rendered nigh-useless with this youkai who had the ability to deflect the goddamned Spirit Ball back to him.

With a resigned smile, he continued his 'interrogation' with the vague and reluctant fire demon. "So, what's this about Kurama being in trouble?" he pressed.

Hiei glared petulantly at the fourteen-year-old mazoku. 'The moron doesn't need to know about that part of the story.' What the jaganshi really intended to do was trick the simple-minded buffoon into going head-on with the monster and getting beat up to a pulp while he, the _true_ Demon World warrior, looked for some sort of weakness that the creature might possess in the meantime. They always had some sort of weakness.

Yusuke frowned at the fire demon... the ice demon... whatever he was. All he knew was that the thing that attacked Hiei probably had some sort of agenda; evidenced by the fact that he didn't randomly kill the pint-sized flamethrower. Then shorty mentioned Kurama-

"What did he say about Kurama?" Yusuke casually asked. Hiei was dumbstruck for a while, realizing he just fell for the human's ruse.

"DAMMIT, WHAT THE HELL DID HE WANT WITH KURAMA?"

"I don't know," Hiei spat. 'Humph. He figured it out.' "All he said was that he wanted Minamino Shuichi."

"Wha-Isn't that Kurama's human name?" Yusuke was taken aback. "What did he want with... with...? Does it mean that he doesn't know about Kurama the Youko? Or his other self, Minamino Shuichi?"

"I don't know," Hiei admitted; he was quickly losing interest in the conversation. It was quite obvious that the human wasn't planning to hunt any monsters at that point. 'He's a lot smarter than I give him credit for.'

Yusuke gave up contemplating the situation. He had quite enough of that. He was a man of action. This type of idle chitchat was not for him. But he knew he couldn't do anything. The so-called enemy he was facing wouldn't even attack directly, the coward.

It had no desire of conquering the Human World. It wasn't readying itself to lead a massive invasion nor to get some incredible power that would turn it into a feared force of nature in all three worlds. It just waited, like a cobra. No one knew what its true motive in attempting to capture Kurama was, if 'capturing' was what it had in mind.

Yusuke glanced back to where the fire demon once stood. Sure enough, the diminutive bastard was already gone. The teenager sighed. It was just as well. He was sure Kurama wouldn't even be half surprised by this. Still, he knew Hiei was capable of taking care of himself. Besides that, his mother would be back in the apartment by morning, anyway.

He settled in for the night. He had classes tomorrow, but he could care less about that. He could afford to skip a day or two. The only thing he cared about right now was sleep. He needed it.

* * *

The sun shone on the backdrop of a blue sky. Birds chirped. The leaves on the trees rustled. People went about their usual business. It was just another ordinary day.

"Minamino-sempai! Minamino-sempai! Wait up!"

But there were just so many connotations to the term 'ordinary.'

'Oh no, not again.'

"What is it, Shigeru-kun?" Kurama questioned through a strained smile. He was not in the best of moods that day, but he did his best to put up a cheerful front.

Mornings at Meiou High weren't exactly the happiest Kurama would remember for the rest of eternity. For one thing, he had to deal with a certain group called the "Legion of Minamino-sama", which was composed of quite a number of... people who were always putting pressure on him.

He wasn't particularly happy about it; especially now, due to the fact that there were some members who had already begun to become more 'forward' with their advances. He hadn't been at all that pleased with the current developments, but he never took any serious action against them. He _did_ have far more important things to take care of.

"I wrote you a poem, Minamino-sempai!" Shigeru Amano cheered, his round face beaming like the moon. He wasn't exactly part of the love brigades that had begun to spread in popularity in the school. He was more like 'Minamino's little admirer,' since he was about one year Kurama's junior. He was older than Yusuke, but he looked a lot younger than his actual fifteen-year-old age would suggest.

Sure, Shigeru had been known to irritate Kurama with incessant questions about his love life, his favorite color, his type of shampoo, and other similar insubstantial-type of questions. He was even prone to stalking the redhead to a point much worse than the 'Legion'. Yet Kurama always had a soft spot for the little boy, especially when he did sweet and considerate things like this.

"What's it about, Shigeru-kun?" Kurama asked, intrigued and touched by the gesture. "It's certainly not my birthday, and there seems to be no particular special occasion today that comes to mind. What is this for?"

"Oh nothing. It isn't particularly about you. I just wanted to share... between friends..." the young boy revealed shyly. "It's about... Just read it."

"Okay."

Kurama carefully unfolded the piece of paper and made note of the carefully written characters. It was obviously a labor of love, a poem that was given great consideration in writing. Every stroke was finely arranged. It certainly didn't look anything like Shigeru's sloppy old handwriting. But Kurama was rather shocked as he read its contents.

_It was numbing... as if from a dream  
You're suppose to feel something  
Yet deep inside you feel nothing  
It's all unsettling and confusing_

_It's as if you're from a distance  
As if you're protecting yourself  
From a world of pain and suffering  
Making the calm all the more unsettling_

_Through the daze, unbidden it comes  
Silly questions came... Ironic ones  
Silly because it's all so ridiculous  
Ironic because its silliness hurts_

_We cover up, one way or another  
A mask of courage over a vulnerable face  
A facade daunting over the grievance  
Tears run below this constructed mask_

_Or instead, you let yourself feel the pain...  
Of course it will come, sooner or later  
It's a wound, bleeding. Continuously.  
No word of comfort can appease it, once it's there. _

"Minamino-sempai? Was it that _bad_?" Shigeru queried disjointedly, a look of hurt apparent on his childlike face. The fact that he looked like a junior high student was made more apparent as he made a face akin to that of an infant who was about to cry.

Kurama took sometime to recover from his surprise. He didn't notice that a deep frown had begun to form on his lips as he read the piece, nor the fact that he was out of it for quite a while. He gave Shigeru a grin of reassurance.

"It was... beautiful. I don't know what else to say about it. You're a gifted poet. Thank you for sharing that," Kurama appraised, giving the boy his gentlest of smiles. Unlike the cruel smiles he usually showed to his old Demon World enemies, it was a smile which he learned from his mother; a smile of genuine appreciation.

If looks could kill, this one just woke up the dead. Shigeru practically radiated upon hearing his upperclassman's compliments.

"WA-I! SEMPAI!"

Kurama accepted the subsequent hug. Shigeru, irritating as he was with his participations with the Legion and his continuous harassment of the redhead, was a very likeable person. Albeit obsessed and a bit too spontaneous, he was still likeable.

"Then I hope you could forgive me for telling the entire Legion your locker combination."

"..."

Shigeru wisely took Kurama's time of contemplation to take his leave. But not before saying these last few words: "The poem... It was for my grampa. He just died a-and I didn't know what to do. I wrote it during my spare time. I know I could trust you with it, sempai."

These were words that Kurama wasn't able to forget for the rest of the day. And more came forth from those words. His own.

"I know. I also lost someone."

* * *

Waking up from his short reprieve, Kurama sighed. That episode with Shigeru Amano the day before Hiei was attacked suddenly bobbed up to the surface of his mind. He hadn't since talked to Shigeru about it, both feeling a sort of awkwardness toward the topic whenever it was mentioned.

Kurama stared up at the bus terminal. This was his stop. From there, he proceeded to begin his trek towards a temple atop a mountain path from the nearby forest... towards Genkai's not-so-humble abode.

* * *

"YUSUKE, GET UP!" an oh-so-familiar voice roused Yusuke out of his bed. Despite throbbing eardrums, he still managed to unsteadily get up on his feet. 'Ouch. For someone who was injured, Hiei sure packed a punch.'

"What is it, mom?" Yusuke mumbled sleepily, oblivious to the fact that he should already know the answer to his own unthinking question and was just adding fire to the flames of his mother's wrath.

"It's time for SCHOOL, you no good LOUT! I'd have you know that no son of mine..." was his mother's exuberant response. Or at least that was what Yusuke heard before he blocked out the rest of his irate parent's sermon in his head.

But he still had enough insight to overhear, "...And then your friend Shuichi-kun dropped by and gave me this letter for you early in the morning WHEN YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN AWAKE! I admire how much more responsible that Minamino boy is compared to you."

"Huh? What letter?" Yusuke asked suddenly, his interest aroused. Usually, he just waited for his mother to either throw some kind of hard object at his head from utter frustration or to simply tire out from her sermon and just leave it at that.

"Get it yourself. I put it right on the counter, under the coffee mug," Atsuko said idly, adopting an entirely opposite personality from the screaming banshee that she was just a while ago. She afterwards proceeded to the sofa to sleep. She would rather go to the futon, but she was just too damn tired from all that talking and from her night of partying yesterday.

Yusuke swiped the message from under the mug eagerly, nearly toppling the ceramic. With the prospect of getting into something far more interesting than school (and the possibility of him actually having to skip school; his favorite part of having missions, aside from a good fight), Yusuke eagerly read the letter.

_Gone to Genkai's. We'll be having a meeting, since there's no sign of either Botan nor Koenma  
filling us in on the details concerning what happened yesterday. Bring Kuwabara there, and if  
you could, Hiei. Perhaps Genkai can provide us some insight on the events._

No more goading was needed for Yusuke. Even before the flying slip of Kurama's memo lightly landed on the wooden floorboards, the youngster was already up and running towards the nearest bus station.

* * *

Hiei carefully replayed the events of the fateful night in his mind. He and the fox demon were supposed to have a meeting underneath the tree where he usually slept. Fact was, there was an obscure presence that suddenly crept nearby.

Not that the jaganshi sensed _him_. What really disturbed Hiei was that the creature had totally no energy in him. Even the weakest and stupidest of humans or demons had at the very least a bit of ki in them. But this one-this one had none at all. Had the diminutive youkai not seen him in the corner of his eye, he would have missed him entirely.

"Minamino Shuichi is coming here. Isn't he, koorime?" the being assumed, his demeanor ostensibly lacking in feeling as Hiei struggled to feel the nonexistent presence of the armored being.

'Yet how in the world could he have known where Kurama was otherwise?' Hiei brooded over frustratingly. It made no sense. It was as if the shadow man was second-guessing everything and was lucky to have his gamble pay off.

There was something else about the entity that left Hiei disconcerted. The bleakness of his statement, the dismal stare, and the monotone of his voice were all irrelevant. It was his utter lack of life energy that irked the forbidden child to no end. Yet in spite of that, or rather because of it, Hiei wanted to fight him all the more.

The fight confirmed his assumption; yet ironically, instead of things finally making sense, it added more to his confusion. 'How could he exist? He has no soul!'

Hiei felt something cold hit the nape of his neck. Another one-repetitiously... 'Humph. It's raining.'

Hiei whisked through the treetops towards his destination. His fractured bones had healed in record time, although most of his body still ached like hell. He also retrieved his katana from the Minamino residence. 'Stupid fox.' So there was only one more thing he had to do.

Find something that was not supposed to exist.

* * *

"GRANDMA! KURAMA! I'M HERE!" Yusuke casually yelled as he reached the top of the long stairs overlooking the valley that surrounded his former master's mountaintop residence. As if in response, all the various fauna nearby began scattering away from the source of the raucous.

Genkai, master of the Spirit Wave technique and avid lover of peace, shook her head. She was looking forward to feeding her beloved sparrows and the various other aviaries that frequented her abode, only to see them fly away in fear of Anarchy made Flesh. Pacifist as she was, she did what any peace lover would do.

"OW! What was that for!" Yusuke shouted, grabbing hold of the lump that formed at the back of his head.

"Yukina, would you please prepare some tea? We have a visitor," Genkai requested of the blue-haired koorime sweeping the yard, totally ignoring the rambling youth. The girl nodded, gave Yusuke a polite bow, and then made her way into the house.

"Is Kurama already here?" Yusuke inquired, his mood swinging in rhythm with his sudden shift of interest. He looked around the area for any sign of the kitsune. He was certainly curious about what Kurama had planned for them during this so-called meeting.

"Yes. He's inside the dojo," Genkai replied, motioning towards her training hall. "I do believe he has some interesting news for all of us-Thank you, Yukina."

Yusuke kindly declined the tea the ice maiden offered. "Do you have any idea what kind of enemy we're facing, granny?"

"All in good time, Yusuke. All in good time," Genkai said as she took a sip of her own tea. "The rest of the Urameshi Team will be coming here soon, yes?"

"I don't know about Kuwabara. Come to think of it, I forgot to tell him about the meeting in the first place. But I guess Hiei will be hanging around." Yusuke shrugged. "Is it important that we're all here?"

"Yes," Genkai responded, slowly moving towards her home. "But there's nothing to worry about. They'll be here. We'll all be here."

* * *

"Yusuke! Good. You're here," Kurama said, his face barely seen with what little daylight was let in the dojo by the slightly opened door. The half-human, half-youko was in a somber state that the younger Spirit World Detective had rarely seen outside of mortal combat.

"Yeah. What's up, Kurama?" Yusuke addressed, not missing the solemn look Kurama gave him. This must be serious. "What's going on? Does the old woman know anything about... him?"

"Genkai-baasan and I had a very interesting talk about that. But let's wait until everyone's here," Kurama commented patiently.

With an exasperated sigh, Yusuke gallingly settled on the dojo floor, sitting cross-legged. The teen always wondered why Kurama had to take the subdued, beat-around-the-bush tactic. He was more of the straightforward, cut-to-the-chase type of character, in fighting and in life. All this waiting, for him, was more of a waste of time than anything else.

Kurama was always amazed at the amount of obnoxious impetuousness that Yusuke possessed. He guessed that he must be irritating the hell out of the impulsive boy with all this waiting-but it was more than just for ceremony. It was all necessary in the end, and if his deductions were correct, then everything would soon make sense after their gathering later on.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: A meeting in Genkai's house, as well as the coming of an unwelcome guest.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	3. Chapter 2: Seedlings

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Ah, yes; the second chapter. Didn't think I would make it, but I felt indebted to bring Yuyu Hakusho and its characters to life in fanfic form. C&C always appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Seedlings**

* * *

"Where's Yusuke?"

It was a simple enough question. Simple, straightforward, to the point-if one could ignore the subject in question. That would be about as easy as ignoring a dancing pink elephant.

"Hee hee! Pink ele... I mean, no. I haven't seen him."

Keiko Yukimura tilted her head and stared peculiarly at the silly, curly-haired youth in front of her. Honestly, sometimes she just couldn't understand what was going on in that head of his.

Kazuma Kuwabara heaved an exasperated sigh at the cute, brown-haired girl. Why was it that cute girls like her tended to be so slow on the uptake? Wasn't it obvious? There was only one simple answer to her question anyway. Yusuke Urameshi. Couldn't get any simpler than that: Yusuke Urameshi.

"Where could he be?" Keiko asked, failing to hide the look of unmistakable concern on her face.

"Keiko-chan, you have to understand that Urameshi's a big boy now," Kuwabara explained, gesturing his hands in a wide arc to demonstrate his point. "He punches out monsters like they were fluffy pillows... with frills! He also discovered that he's a demon of some sort-and not just any demon, but the descendant of a great Demon Warlord! Honestly, Keiko-san! Do you really have to worry about him _this_ much?"

Keiko was... speechless, to say the least. Kuwabara finally got his point across. Maybe a bit too well; he certainly didn't expect this sort of reaction.

Keiko carefully recollected the words. Demons... Monsters... Warlords...

"Kuwabara-kun, what sort of a mission is he in _this_ time?" Keiko... articulated, using even wider, more threatening gestures at the big, ugly meanie.

"WHAT? I... w-was... Keiko-chan, p-please... s-stop... s-shaking!"

The young girl relinquished her grapple hold on Kuwabara. "Sorry, Kuwabara-kun-but don't scare me like that!" She lightly hit the big lug on the shoulder.

"What? I was only... Ah, heck." Kuwabara simply shrugged. Girls. Who could understand them? "Urameshi can handle himself, you know that."

"I know, I know! But that won't stop me from worrying," Keiko hesitantly said, her voice subdued. "He left without telling me why again," she added softly.

"I don't know much either. He hasn't told me about any new missions. Not that I'd want to get into all that trouble with him again," Kuwabara declared, his arms folded to indicate his supposed disapproval. He looked around: There was already a crowd forming as they approached the middle of the lunch break. "We better go before we get crowded in."

Keiko nodded, wistfully thinking, 'Yusuke, where have you gone to this time?'

* * *

Walking back towards the dojo for the umpteenth time after playing 'Hell Street 2' for the umpteenth time, Yusuke Urameshi opened the two massive doors, slammed them shut, moved towards Kurama, and, sitting cross-legged, demanded for the umpteenth time, "Can you tell me NOW?"

"Not yet, Yusuke," Kurama responded as patiently as only he could, very much akin to a mother gently trying to appease a tedious eight year old. He was tempted to wave his finger a la 'kaasan' for effect, but laughed at the thought. Though he seemed not to have had a childhood where his mother frequently admonished him, he had seen his mother angry before.

"Hello? Human World to Kurama?" Yusuke teased. "We can't wait for those two forever! Besides, we're probably in another mission, right? Yet another mission of dire importance that has a set deadline or else the Human World is done for?"

"No. That is, I don't think so," Kurama tentatively answered, more to himself than to Yusuke. "The fact is that I don't think the supposed 'new' mission is a mission at all to begin with."

"Come again?" Yusuke queried in confusion.

"The Spirit World assigned Hiei and I to a mission; a vague reference of an investigation. Now, I'm thinking, 'Why would they do that, instead of informing Yusuke outright?'" the redhead expounded further, voicing out his earlier concerns.

"I see." Yusuke nodded, his hand on his chin. "Could it be like that time with Hiei? I mean, when they gave that tape to him first so that he could forward it to me so _he'd_ know it was his sister that was kidnapped... right?"

"There's more to it than that. Then, Koenma had at least a vague idea of what was going on," Kurama said, going deeper in contemplation. He remembered the last time Koenma had no idea what he was getting the four spirit detectives into. It was during the time when they fought against the Toguro Brothers.

Koenma was in the Spirit World library trying to find out more about their enemies when Kurama caught him red-handed. It was more than a little upsetting to know that the Spirit World itself could not handle such matters.

"What are you trying to say, Kurama?" Yusuke queried, curiosity getting the better of him.

"What if the Spirit World doesn't know what's happening this time? What if they have no idea who this 'entity' is? This certainly won't be the first time," Kurama proposed, again coming out of his daze. The more he thought about the situation, the more uncomfortable he became. In a perfect world, things made sense: This was definitely not a perfect world.

"So what you're trying to say is that we're on our own yet _ again_ in this mission?" Yusuke stated as he processed the information he had just received. "That's certainly nothing new."

"And that the Spirit World doesn't think that this is a mission in the first place," Kurama further elucidated, idly holding the empty ceramic teacup. "This so-called entity, for them, simply does not exist."

"Oh. So if the Spirit World itself doesn't think that that thing exists-Oh, man." Yusuke shook his head.

"I know. It doesn't make sense, at times," Kurama agreed. "We're looking for something we totally have no knowledge about, something that may probably not even exist, at least doesn't exist for the Spirit World."

"No, I mean I'm sick and tired of all this 'entity' crap! Doesn't he have a friggin' name or something?"

Kurama stared at Yusuke. Hard. Then he simply laughed and sweatdropped. He had just encountered yet another 'Yusuke-ism' that he was yet to get used to. Yusuke was interesting that way. "Well, I suppose we could name him-"

"...Munashii," Yusuke offered.

Munashii. The empty void. Nothingness. It certainly had a deepness and timbre to it-a feeling of symbolism, even. The name sounded rather appropriate for the enemy: a faceless man, an unknown and mysterious being. "Why 'Munashii'?" Kurama felt compelled to ask, even though he should have known better.

"I got the name from the final boss of Hell Street 2! He's so broken, his vacuum attack can mean instant death to any character who's taken a hit when it's fully charged-it can even dole out twice the damage when you block! He might as well call it his 'Instant Win Move', the unbalanced bastard," Yusuke rambled on and on, much to Kurama's dismay. To expect depth from Yusuke Urameshi was an exercise in futility.

"Besides, the way Hiei described him, Munashii would probably be a fitting name; he had this hole in his chest that sucks energy the same way black holes suck everything else," Yusuke further commented.

"Hiei... talked to _you_ about it?" Kurama asked, both amused and bemused at the same time. "I thought he would simply leave after waking up."

"Ah, hell... He gave me a farewell present first," Yusuke grinningly said, motioning towards the plaster on his face that he got on his way to Genkai's temple. "He was kind of worried about you. I guess that was why he put up with me."

"Oh? Worried?" Kurama jokingly asked, but his features showed that he was only half-joking. "Whatever for, Yusuke?"

"He said that the guy was looking for you," Yusuke divulged, also adopting a solemn state of mind. "The guy... Munashii... said 'It's Minamino Shuichi whom I want.'"

It was as Kurama had thought... and feared. His premonitions from earlier-his worries for his mother and his friends-had been confirmed. What he most feared was not what could happen to him, but what could happen to those who were close to him; that they could be hurt just because of him.

"Kurama, don't worry about it. I'm sure everything will work out fine," Yusuke assured consolingly. Sometimes, he kept getting the impression that the older boy thought over situations way too much. "Don't take on all the responsibility. You don't have to carry the whole world on your shoulders. We're all here to help."

"Thank you, Yusuke," Kurama managed to say, worry still evident in his evergreen eyes. 'You're more perceptive than I give you credit for, Yusuke,' he added to himself in silent amusement.

A gentle knock was heard. The silence that ensued allowed the soft sound to permeate inside the almost-empty dojo. Both teens looked towards the door.

"Yusuke-san, Kurama-san... Kazuma-san is here."

* * *

Yukina sighed wistfully as she continued her manual labor. She had been very thankful of Genkai's hospitality, and continued to be so because of the elder woman's silent guidance of the ways of the Human World. Even after her kidnapping and her discovery of how 'inhumane' humans could be, the old master had been an antithesis to that, being so kind to her and all.

It had been quite a long time since Yukina left the Land of the Ice Maidens, her home, for the alien Human World. She'd been very frightened of the prospect of leaving her birthplace, yet she felt adamant that she needed to go. She didn't really miss the koorime sisters that she left, especially after she discovered what they conspired to do to her brother. But Rui, unlike those horrible elder koorime, she couldn't help but miss, despite the fact that Rui was the one they forced to banish her twin sibling.

The young koorime girl suddenly shifted her pace and finished up sweeping the patio. She'd hoped her menial toil would at least help take her mind out of certain state of affairs, but the fact that the work required little to no concentration on her part had not helped in avoiding her train of thought.

Rui... dear, sweet Rui... her friend, her big sister, her guardian; she had always been there for her, supporting and caring for her ever since her mother died out of grief for the forbidden child that was her brother. Rui, with her own cross to bear, had looked for solace and retribution through the ice maiden she unwittingly sinned against. They were both lost and forlorn, wandering aimlessly through the voyage called life. It was as if they needed each other to fill in the gaps in their lives.

Rui... who was also the one who caused her to flee from the icy region that was her home towards the foreign land of the humans... made her leave behind the only woman that she knew as family and the land that, for better or worse, she knew as home to find a total stranger.

She held back a familiar sense of guilt as she saw the strange mix of hurt and acceptance in the older koorime's face when she confirmed her departure. The younger ice maiden had been obstinate about it, but she just couldn't get over her feelings of regret and betrayal for making her decision. Then again, she couldn't have done it any other way, especially after learning the truth about her brother.

Yukina stared at the pile of leaves near her feet, looking intently at the foliage but not truly looking at them in the truest sense of the word.

Her brother; her estranged sibling that continued to be an enigma, a puzzle to be solved. He continued to be a stranger to her, much to her disappointment. It was as if she was always kept at bay. It was as if she was constantly pushed away. He was here, somewhere in the Human World, but she had yet to truly reach out to him. No, she hadn't found her brother yet. Not quite yet.

But she was sure that he was a great youkai: a brave and honorable warrior. That was her brother. He was here... somewhere... lost, but should soon be found again. He was in a chasm deeper than the one he was thrown into when he was a baby-a deeper, unreachable, bottomless chasm. She deeply missed her brother. If only he could just... reach out... then he wouldn't be so lost. Then she would have truly found her brother.

"YUKINA-SAN! WA-I!" was the scream the young koorime heard from a distance. She looked towards the top of the long flight of stairs that reached near the gates of Genkai's residence. She giggled once she realized who it was.

"Kazuma-san, what a nice surprise," the young snow woman warmly greeted. It was the silly yet adorable young man, Kazuma Kuwabara. She, for some reason, had always been comfortable around the rambunctious but sweet little boy. "Yusuke-san and Kurama-san are waiting in the dojo. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"I'm sure it's very delicious, Yukina-san," Kuwabara grinningly pledged. He didn't quite know what possessed him to go through another mission with Yusuke. In fact, he was fairly certain that he had been very obstinate about not going the minute he read the crumpled letter Yusuke left at his apartment.

But he did know for a fact that he won't let the idiot steal the show and do all that cool, fun stuff by himself. Besides, this was an opportunity to spend some time with the ice goddess, Yukina. "Mmmm! Very delicious!"

"Yes! Genkai-baasan made the herbal tea herself, so I'm sure it is," Yukina enthusiastically replied.

"Oh. Of course. E-heh..." Kuwabara trailed off with several mumbles after recovering from his facefault. As a result, he didn't immediately notice the sudden uneasiness the ice maiden felt. "Still, it's an even greater treat by the mere fact that you're serving it. Eh, Yukina-san?"

The fourteen-year-old bush-haired boy rubbed his head sheepishly as he discontinued his discourse with the broom. The ice maiden, on the other hand, was now trotting towards the dojo to announce the new guest's arrival. But she then felt another presence among the shadows of the trees. She could have sworn that there was movement over that direction.

'Could it be...? '

After a brief pause, she continued towards her destination even as an orange-haired youth began to clumsily follow her, professing something about undying love.

* * *

"Yusuke-san, Kurama-san. Kazuma-san is here," Yukina very shyly informed as she realized she had abruptly ended an apparently urgent meeting. "Sorry for disturbing you both," she quickly added.

Kurama waved a hand of dismissal. "It's all right, Yukina-san. Let Kuwabara-kun-"

"URAMESHI, YOU IDIOT!" shouted a blue and orange blur that unexpectedly appeared in front of the half-demon human. "Why didn't you tell me that we were on a mission? Keiko was so worried!"

"Who said that we're on a mission?" the raven-haired boy smugly retorted, but quickly added, "What did Keiko say?"

"What do you mean we're not on a mission?" said a thoroughly confused Kuwabara. Did that mean there wouldn't be any fighting orgies (orgies that involved fighting instead of the more popular connotation of the word, of course)? No pummeling of monsters and various other demons into submission? No fun? "Er... Keiko-chan said that you were an idiot and that you didn't keep your promise or something."

"I kept my promise because we aren't on a mission!" Yusuke practically yelled. "She worries too much, that silly girl-Eh, Kuwabara? You okay? You seem to be shaking."

"What... do... you... mean... NO MISSION?" Kuwabara said in deliberate slowness, putting a lot of emphasis on the last two words. "What the hell did I come here for?"

"Who asked you to come? I didn't tell you anything about this, and you're certainly not welcome." Yusuke shrugged. He _meant_ to tell Kuwabara from the get go, but why bring that up now? He was in a rush anyway as soon he read Kurama's memo.

"I did," Kurama said with certain finality. Both teens immediately became quiet. "I also gave Kuwabara-kun a letter."

"You did?" Kuwabara asked, bewildered. "I didn't... Oh, the junk mail."

There was a collective sigh from almost everyone in the room.

"Dumbass," Yusuke affirmed, shaking his head. "So how'd you know about this meeting?"

Kuwabara shrugged. "Your mother showed me the letter while I was checking out your apartment... Keiko told me to do so. Call it dumb luck." He was treated with a demonstration of collective head shaking.

"Don't insult luck."

"Hey! It's not as if I get important mail everyday!" Kuwabara whined defensively. He was being humiliated in front of his ice goddess-something he wouldn't live down.

"Yeah. Who in his or her right mind would write to someone as ugly as you?" Yusuke teased, having suddenly decided to instigate a real fight.

"You jackass! I oughtta...!"

"Oughtta what?"

"Enough... sit," Kurama commanded in deadly calm. The two young Reikai Tantei immediately complied. With a deep breath, the elder kitsune said, "Yusuke... Kuwabara... We can now start with the meeting. Yukina-san, would you kindly call Genkai? We have urgent matters to discuss."

Yukina bowed politely to the three and then made her way to Genkai. Yet another wave of familiarity greeted her on her way out as she again curiously looked at the slight movements behind the shadows of the trees surrounding the compound. She paused for the briefest of moments before returning to her pace. "Eh? What about Hiei?" Yusuke asked, puzzled. He thought everyone was supposed to be in the meeting.

"What about him?" Kuwabara harrumphed, not at all liking the prospect of the pompous, self-righteous, know-it-all squirt in the same room with him.

"Oh yeah, you haven't heard the whole story yet." Yusuke smacked his fist on his palm as a gesture of his realization. "Hiei got beat up badly," he simply added.

"You're kidding me right? Don't tell me. It's another powerful demon out for revenge on Hiei or something," Kuwabara guessed, finding the whole thing too unpleasant for him to swallow.

Though Kuwabara would never actually admit it to anybody, he was a bit uncomfortable with the fact that the master of the Kokuryuha had actually been beaten up. Few people could at this point in point. Maybe Yusuke was merely exaggerating.

Yusuke gleefully noted that Kuwabara's false bravado momentarily slipped at the mention of Hiei being defeated. "Yup. Shorty was beaten up like a little puppy. I heard that even with the power of the Kokuryuha, he was no match against the guy."

"Who or what was he?" Kuwabara gravely asked. If it was another Shinobu Sensui, Younger Toguro, or Yakumo, then he was definitely in on the mission, no matter what. However, he didn't notice that he absently shuddered at the thought.

"No one knows," Yusuke admitted, shrugging. "He didn't even give out a name or a calling card, so we've dubbed him 'Munashii' for now."

"Okay..." Kuwabara tentatively assented, though he did have a strange afterthought about fighting games all of a sudden.

"I'll be briefing you with the details of our last encounter, Kuwabara-kun," Kurama reassured.

"What about Hiei?" Yusuke persisted. It wasn't that he wanted the violent fire demon with them; he just had trouble letting go of an issue once it was denied resolution.

"He's already here," Kurama plainly replied, leaving his answer at that.

* * *

From a distance overlooking the dojo of the old Spirit Wave Master, Hiei waited among the shadows of the woodland surrounding his current location. He knew Kurama was up to something, calling up this so-called meeting and all. He couldn't really care less about the kitsune's plans; that was, except for-

He tensed a bit as he saw Yukina approach his position yet again, her very presence keeping him on edge all throughout his prowl. The fact that she kept looking towards his direction, seemingly aware of him being there but not actually acknowledging it, didn't help matters. Did she already know?

Did she already know that her brother was... dead?

He silently banished such thoughts from his head as he headed out to the old woman's dojo. The senseless talking was about to start, but he knew what he was after-and he was ready to get it, no matter what.

A strange, deathly calm enveloped Hiei, his eyes becoming two deep, dark pools of crimson that reflected a quiet malice.

* * *

"Shall we begin?" Genkai, the former carrier of the Spirit Light Wave Gem, queried the three Spirit Detectives. "This has been dragging on long enough," she added with a smirk.

Kurama drew in an audible breath, seemingly trying to find his center of calm. "Kuwabara, is everything clear to you right now about the previous events?"

The orange-haired teen slowly nodded. "Er, we're fighting some guy..."

"Munashii," Yusuke corrected with a strange hint of self-satisfaction in his tone.

"..._Munashii_, and he was powerful enough to wipe the floor with Hiei. Um, the Spirit World doesn't really have a clue about him or it-big surprise-so that leaves us..."

"On our own, apparently," Yusuke finished for the tall carrot-topped boy. "So, what have you two got for us, Kurama? Granny?"

"I thought you'd never ask," the elder woman said with a smirk. Yusuke always found his master's smirk quite disconcerting-particularly during the segments of their training where she always wore that familiar sneer every time she was up to something... well... He just didn't like it.

"Grandma's going tell us a story," Kuwabara whispered over Yusuke's ear before being promptly brained by said grandma. Yusuke, because of his quaint snickering, had his share of the blessing afterwards.

Kurama didn't seem the least bit perturbed by the two humans' antics. Instead, he wore his familiar mask of calm, his green eyes becoming sharp slits of cunning and intelligence. The same eyes darted back and forth at the wide space of the dojo time and time again, evidently expecting something. Or someone.

The Master of the Spirit Waves coughed once to get everyone's attention. Accomplishing this, she now began her discourse. "You know very little of this entity who attacked Hiei that fateful night; so does the Spirit World." She took a sip of her tea. "But I know some information about this 'Munashii,' as you call him."

"So... what is he? A demon? A gaki? I heard some of those do make snacks out of souls, among other things," Yusuke inquired, really getting into the discussion.

"Actually, no." Genkai eyed Kurama a bit. The red-haired boy showed surprising calm, even for him. Being the main objective of an undead creature that lay in the physical realm could legitimately warrant even a little distress. "This being, as you're also so fond of calling him, is nothing more than a shattered soul."

Among those present, one absently winced.

"Come again?" Yusuke pensively asked. This was something new.

"Shattered soul? Geez, ain't that from a lyric of a love song or something?" Kuwabara quipped in disbelief. The subject matter sounded too profound for him. Demons and spirits were one thing, but a shattered soul? It was something he couldn't even begin to fathom.

"Before our powerful new nemesis became a shattered soul, he was nothing more than an ordinary human. Well, about as ordinary as any of you two, anyway," Genkai bluntly disclosed.

"There was a legend concerning our little friend," Kurama interjected from out of the blue, finally coming out of his silent reverie. "It was a legend about a miracle man during the Sengoku period."

"A... miracle man?" Yusuke asked, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"

"He brings people back to life," Kurama reiterated, a small smirk forming in the corners of his mouth. "It's rather ironic, considering what he is today."

"That's how the legend tells it anyway. We all know how a word-of-mouth legend can stretch the actual facts out of proportion," Genkai cautioned, finishing up what was left of her beverage before placing the teacup on the floor. As soon as the sound of the ceramic clicking on the tiled surface became audible, Kurama continued the story.

"But still, we believe that the story has some merit in it, even though we have to take some of its claims with a grain of salt."

The room was silent. Everyone was contemplating these new pieces of information. Kuwabara was still lost with the 'shattered soul' issue; what a horrible thing to happen to someone, even worse than death. Yusuke, on the other hand, was intrigued with the fact that this person might have actually been human, like him... well, sort of... but still, it provoked some consideration. Kurama was simply observing how the other two detectives were reacting to the news.

"So what made this so-called miracle man become a ghoul of death?" Yusuke forthrightly queried.

Genkai relaxed as she braced herself in telling the whole story. Kuwabara, at the back of his mind, remembered his 'Grandma's going to tell us a story' comment. He wisely kept it to himself.

"It all began in a village in the middle of clan war, and the person who was made legend because of it..."

* * *

_A vision of carnage filled his entire senses; it was a sight full of dismembered corpses. It was, strangely enough, a sight that could almost induce humor because of its gratuitousness and seeming exaggeration, if not for the fact that everything was real. Horribly real. _

_Body parts were strewn everywhere, piled in such a way that they appeared to belong to some degenerate meat section of the marketplace. He wished he could close his eyes. If it could only have been like a memory-only when did memories actually smelt of rotting human flesh? _

_The thought of the stickiness of the ground where he stood only added to his nausea. Different liquids poured all over the surface of the ground coming from the makeshift-piled carcasses; to what constituted this vile concoction, he would not even give a second thought about-in horror, not in apathy. The wind was howling a eulogy to the dead, giving a haunting cry that also seemed to originate from the mishmash of cadavers, just like the various liquids on the ground. _

_He could smell death, breathe death, sense death, and touch death. It was death everywhere. He heard cries from the distance. Were they from friends and relatives? It didn't matter. He was only there to do his work. It would be a pity for everyone else but if there was an off chance that-There! A potential survivor! _

_Among the decapitated and the mutilated, there she lay. She couldn't have been any more than fourteen, with her short dark hair and bruised but otherwise flawless complexion. She was covered with blood, but mostly from being piled with so many other corpses. What was important was that she was perfectly intact, he noted clinically to himself. _

_He beckoned to the crowd that was gathered around him. One by one, each had a light of hope that the corpse he had chosen was one of their own. He noted in pity the ones whose eyes were filled with despair as soon as they found out the chosen one was that of a stranger. Soon enough, the relatives of the girl were acknowledged. He beamed with joy upon seeing the happy faces of what could have been either a brother or a friend and a mother. He began the ceremony. _

_A familiar feeling of warmth enveloped him and the corpse. He felt a kind of peace that was indescribable to him... comparable to nothing. It was just beyond him. The high he got was so comforting... so delicious. _

_He metaphorically slapped himself for losing concentration. This was for the girl's sake, of course. _

_He spread the life force all over the young lady. He noticed that the bloodstained kimono's freshest source of blood came from her upper torso; the cause of the girl's death had been repeated stabs on the chest. He concentrated the precious life source he'd gathered towards the aforementioned area and felt it surge from his fingertips to the girl's body. _

_Slowly, steadily, a warm sensation began to tickle his neck. Was it... breathing? It became fast and rapid-almost panicky-as color returned to the young girl's face. She regained full consciousness afterwards. Right as her soft green eyes stared into his pale violet ones, she became calm. Her earlier panic was no more. He cradled her gently, smoothly stroking her now inexplicably fiery red hair just like the way a mother would cradle a newborn... which was kind of how this situation was, in a sense. _

_Rebirth. Rejoice. A whole plethora of various emotions tickled into his own body, seemingly seeping into him, as if he were sensitive enough to feel what other people felt, whether pain or pleasure. Still, it was merely an outside sensation, a third-person awareness he merely took note of. It couldn't possibly compare to holding a life force in his own hands, a spirit with its own consciousness, its own being. He dismissed the rest of his chain of thought as he returned the revived young girl to her ecstatic family. _

_He was exhausted yet happy, although he was also filled with a cluster of other emotions he knew was not his own. He merely shook his head in sympathy as he commiserated with the rest of the unfortunate ones. Oh, how he wished that he could resurrect all those who had died in the battle-but Enma Daio was a cruel god. He turned his back at the jubilant folk. His work here was done. _

_He then felt an intense sense of gratitude... which was only natural, since he'd just done one of his 'Great Miracles'... yet the intensity it held beckoned him to turn around even before he heard the expected words of thanks and well-wishes. _

_"Wait!" _

_He saw the revived young girl's green eyes staring back at him with such vibrant life that it made him cringe at the thought of its fire ever being snuffed out. He didn't quite understand what made him go forward, what made him tilt his head in such a way to gesture the girl to speak. _

_"Thank you very much," the girl expressed her gratitude, courteously bowing down. As she straightened herself, she gave him a timid smile. The blush on her cheeks was apparent, but he set aside the thought as his own imagination. After all, his feelings were now tainted by the wide range of emotions roiling all around him, not knowing if they were influenced by the general panic of the families of the slain or his own anxiety. "May I please know your name, sir?" _

_The miracle man didn't quite notice the mother pulling the girl away from him and scolding the young woman for her brashness while she apologized to him profusely. Nor did he notice the words that spewed forth from his mouth as he himself spoke to respond to the girl's question. But he forever etched into his consciousness the next few lines the gentle, bashful girl told him afterwards. _

_"I'm Asuka. Matsui Asuka. I hope to see you again soon."_

* * *

Within the room inside the dojo, one of its four inhabitants held back a shudder.

"This guy fell in love with one of his... er... patients? Is that right?" Yusuke clarified with a look of incredulity and confusion. "If he was so nice and great during his time, what's with his gothic shtick these days?"

"He wasn't... isn't... exactly evil. Actually, I see him as more of a victim of circumstance than anything else," Genkai elucidated, taking in a more regal demeanor as she cleared her throat to speak. "Besides, I'm not quite yet done with the story."

"What happened next, Genkai-baasan?"

"He came upon his crossroads, so to speak."

* * *

_Days went by... Days became months, months became years. Before long, the reputation of the miracle man spread all throughout the land. Thousands flocked him during those times of mysticism and spirituality. Many claimed him to be hoax and a fraud, while others attribute his powers to either that of the lesser demons of the Spirit World or that of the Lord of the Dead himself, Enma Daio. _

_Not that any of it mattered to the young prodigy. He felt that he was obliged to help people, and that he had a natural affinity towards life, death, and the human soul. But he also gave his blatant disapproval of war and slaughter during his time. _

_He simply couldn't understand what drove people to destroy something so precious, so beautiful... as life. He continued to criticize the war effort and actively sought a more peaceful compromise in the situation of the society of his day. His efforts were highly praised... though, unfortunately, were also ultimately futile. It was just human nature. _

_It saddened him that people treated him as a magical solution to their ails, while his calls for peace were at best tolerated, patronized but never taken seriously. All their words of praise and thanks, in the end, were just that... words. The war dragged on for no foreseeable or logical reason other than human pride and greed. Though in the end the subversive rebellion-or so the propaganda of the enemy called it-were defeated. There were no more workers left in the fields, and the general consensus of the battered people toward their so-called leader was that of mutual hate. It was a Phyrric victory in the end. He had told them so. _

_There would be countless other rebellions, then countless wars... a never-ending cycle of mass genocide. It was as if the people had a innate berserk-trigger in them that sent them into a genocidal frenzy within the guise of fighting for principle and honor. _

_How very, very sad. _

_But life went on. He felt powerless because of the conditions affecting the flawed society he lived in, but that was the way things were. People continued to flock him, even as the war ended. He was even given permission to visit the royal court, by the ruler who instigated all the massacres he had 'resurrected' before. _

_He still felt obliged to continue his commitments, though he felt rather counterproductive, since he never truly helped the people and he was only delaying what was inevitable in their nature. But that was not the worst of it. _

_What was worse was that the people around him soon became arrogant, blaming him for not having enough power to save _all_ of their kind! They were addicted to him like a drug, and they abused his gifts by bringing even the sick and the elderly to his care. He was now being asked to cure a shogun's child of a mere cold, while there were people lined up behind him with more important cases! _

_Nearly everyone had become vain and capricious in their treatment of him and his talents, taking him for granted and thinking that he was actually obligated to help them fight against the inevitability of death. It was their unwarranted sense of entitlement over his charity that was slowly killing him-the blade the gutted the goose that lay the golden egg, if you will. _

_There was only one person in his whole village, in the whole selfish community where he lived, who truly understood him. _

_Asuka. Asuka Matsui._

* * *

Hiei tensed. A familiar presence was taking shape well within his consciousness as the strange calm that he felt before suddenly began to envelop his gut. He mentally sneered.

'You.'

'You're in too deep, koorime.'

'Let's end this now, shadow man. Let's stop your little puppet show.'

'This is no puppet show of mine, koorime.'

'...'

And there was silence once more from the shadows inside the dojo.

* * *

_"Well?" _

_He merely stared at his childhood friend's mirth... and her smile. _

_"What do you think?" Asuka pouted, feigning irritation, but the impishness of her bright green eyes gave her away. "Aw, come on! We don't have all day!" _

_He stated how heart-achingly beautiful she was in her festive kimono; with her red hair-shortened to the right length-shining in the pale moonlight; the way her smile brightened and warmed the dark, cold night, her girlish figure soon giving way to a more womanly one as she slowly grew up from mere prettiness to stunning beauty. Or at least he tried, as his words became a whole bunch of gobbledygook while he blushed furiously. He then settled for 'nice.' _

_"Well, thank you for that vote of confidence!" the girl... woman... before him teased. Her bearing and overall appearance made her seem older than she looked, but she was just celebrating her sixteenth birthday today. Today. And he... the eternal dunce... completely forgot! Forgot the date of his best friend's birthday! _

_"Come on! Are you just going to stare all day? We're going to be late for today's festival." _

_Festival! Her birthday had coincided with the festival! Of course, that was why she was all dressed up. Not that she shouldn't dress up in any other normal birthday, but... this was going to be an extra special occasion. He scolded himself for thinking of something woefully obvious as he walked side-by-side with his best friend. _

_He didn't know how it started-Asuka becoming his friend. She was supposed to be just another faceless person in the sea of faceless people that he had saved from the blight of war, disease, or whatnot. He had always been adored and praised by numerous village folk, but the bond he shared with the redhead was something altogether different. He remembered what she had said before, about why she was so glad that he was able to save her. _

_"Mother would have been so heartbroken if I died. I couldn't stand to see her cry." That was when he realized how different Asuka was from all of the others; from all of them. _

_"The fireworks are so beautiful tonight," Asuka cheered, gazing towards the bluish-black sky filled with little sparkling gems. The multicolored spectacle further highlighted the whole evening full of goods, games. and gimmicks... a whole night of stealing a peek or two at her soft, gentle, beautiful face without looking like a pervert or a total fool. _

_They should be going back. The Matsui household was preparing a special 'surprise dinner' for Asuka. Well, it would have been a surprise if not for his big mouth. _

_Asuka-the calm and gentle Asuka, someone compliant and obedient, but not necessarily submissive-was a highly intelligent young woman. Yes, she was traditional, but she saw fulfillment by leading such a simple and normal life. It mystified him as to why she still spent time with him. Her ideal life and his own life were complete opposites. _

_"Because you made it all possible; you gave me another chance to live." _

_That was what she had said about it... or at least that was how he remembered it. He had always felt a certain responsibility for every life he restored to the Human World, yet, strangely, he felt an absolute and particular commitment towards Asuka Matsui's life. But why? _

_He had felt all sorts of feelings throughout his life. Though they were not necessarily his own, these emotions felt very real to him. Sadness. Despair. Hopelessness. Fear. Faith Jubilance. Happiness. Love. Of all these emotions, it was only love that completely mystified him. Love was all about pain, loss, suffering, and-strangely enough-contentment, delight, and bliss. In all his life, love to him was about duty and fulfilling the happiness of others. It was never about him. His obligation was with them, and not with himself. _

_And then he realized how empty his life had been without her. It was only through his... love for Asuka that he could finally find fulfillment for himself. _

_One thing he also learned about life was that she was a total bitch. _

_"Oh Kami-sama, what's going on? Taka-kun? YOSHITAKA-KUN!" _

_Silence and emptiness soon abounded feelings of discontentment... numbness... and death._

* * *

"So the legendary prodigy-Munashii, the miracle man-had met an unfortunate fate. For twenty years ongoing, since his _birth_, he had been saving lives by manipulating the flow of life force... of ki... all around him. He played god with his powers, and so in the end it was his own powers that ate him up."

"_Ate_ him up? Whaddya mean, ate him up?"

"It was an inverse of what he used to do. For many years, he had given the dead new life by gathering the ki of the surrounding area and imbuing his own powerful ki into them. Soon, all his charitable work had taken its toll on his spirit's ki-balance. Instead of giving life, his body was forced to suck up the life force of others to support his own ailing health."

* * *

_Death. _

_He could smell death, breath death, sense death, and touch death. It was death everywhere. How long had he been unconscious? It didn't matter. His heart palpitated to new life as he raced out of the darkness of his nearly comatose state to a startling awakening of an appalling reality. _

_'He who brings life also takes away life.' _

_His panic-stricken, maniacal wails filled the empty court. The silent yet haunting cries filled in his consciousness long after his tears had dried out. _

_The surroundings had adopted a palpable gloominess to them, presenting was a grim picture of what he feared the most. Various corpses littered the landscape. Happy merrymakers had become mere bodies; what had been persons were now lifeless objects. Things. What had him more worried than the horrid scenario was the fact that he had never felt more alive in all his life! _

_Silence. He never knew that silence could be deafening-that numbness could hurt. Even in a battlefield filled with the dead, at least there were numerous mourners filling his sensitive consciousness with various emotions and feelings that assured him of... life. _

_Death was never much of a nemesis to him. He instead saw death as an obstacle, an obligation, and a job to be done. Now he knew death as others knew it; infinite emptiness. _

_No... No! Death could not... could never... condemn him! He was beyond death! No, he would bring everyone back to life. He would do that to show that not even death could defeat him! He was death's master! _

_Yet he knew that was but a mere lie. He knew of the growing hunger that had welled up in him ever since was forced to take on the responsibility of overcoming death. He knew that what he had given away had taken its toll on his body and was now seeking recompense. What he feared even more was that he could not let go of the lives that he had taken. _

_He couldn't. The precious sea of life force inside of him was the only thing that separated him from the cadavers that surrounded him. He feared the emptiness, he feared the silence-he feared that they would come to eat his own person, just as it did with these people. He was afraid to let go, for he knew the reason why this had happened. He himself was dying. _

_But it was wrong! He had no right to take the lives of others to prevent his own demise! But the thought of how much he had given to these foolish people and how logical a reparation for them to... No! This should not be! But why couldn't he bring himself to return the lives he had stolen? _

_Because it belonged to him! These people-all of them-had abused him. It was unfair for him to become a martyr for a society who couldn't care less about him! For once in his life, he need not be used, he need not be taken for granted. He would make his own decisions... his own will... his own volition... his own choices... his own love... _

_Asuka. _

_He could not bear to look. He could not bear to see her as he had when he first met her; pale, gray and... dead. _

_He already couldn't forgive himself for killing-_murdering_ so many people, but he would condemn himself to a fate worse than death if ever...! _

_He felt the hunger again. It ravenously ate up the ki that was inside him. It horrified him further that he consumed such a precious substance like it was mere fodder. He dared look at his friend-his only friend-for one last time. _

_He made his decision then and there._

* * *

"Munashii returned the stolen life forces in his body as his powers ate up his own ki. Even though most of the villagers had their lives returned to them, some were not so fortunate. The voracious hunger that was inside the miracle man had made it too late for them. He, who was once a savior, was now deemed a danger to the community. Thus, Munashii... humiliated, despised, and dying... was banished from the village. Only one person dared go with him."

"The Asuka chick, right?"

"Yes. And so here was where the many legends surrounding Munashii began. 'He who escaped death for he had no soul.'"

* * *

_"Taka-kun?" _

_Asuka. She dared deny herself her future, her own happiness, for him. He wished her to stay in the village, to avoid harm and scorn, yet even though he knew it was selfish, he still wanted her to stay with him. _

_"Taka-kun, are you all right?" _

_He had murdered-murdered in order to live. What was once his gift was now his curse. He was a living plague that destroyed all that lived. Whole forests were turned into decaying marshes, grasslands into veritable deserts. No living creature was spared from his hunger; all except one, the only one who gave meaning to his existence. _

_"Taka-kun. No." _

_He was tired; sick and tired of his existence. He was glad that, even for a short while, Asuka would be with him till the very end. _

_"Taka-kun, you have to eat! You can't die now!" _

_How ironic for her to refer the murder that he did as consumption. He couldn't kill anymore-he didn't see any purpose in it. It had to all end sooner or later. Retribution was now at hand for the one who had played god for so long. What a fitting end. _

_"No. You can't...!" _

_Asuka. Dear, sweet Asuka. He had done nothing but made her suffer ever since his powers began to degenerate. Even if he had saved her life, it couldn't make up for all the suffering he had put her through. And now he was going to make her suffer more. But it was all for the best. _

_"I won't let you die!"_

_There was nothing she could do for him. It was his time. It saddened him that even in the end, he would end up hurting her, yet he was glad. Glad that she'd care so much for him. _

_There was a nearby village from where they were standing. Maybe she could go there and forget all about him. She could finally live the normal, stable life that she longed for. He knew... _ felt_ how it nearly broke her heart to leave her mother and brother like that back in their former village. Now, this way he wouldn't be hurting her so much. Yes, this truly was for the best. _

_"I won't... l-let... you... die! Even if..." _

_The darkness was so... welcoming. Maybe the emptiness that he feared for so long wasn't so terrible after all. Actually, it felt rather peaceful. For once in his life, he felt peace. _

_"Even if I have to sacrifice myself for you!" _

_No. She shouldn't. She should stop this foolishness. She couldn't... She couldn't...!_

* * *

"Matsui Asuka sacrificed herself to give Munashii a few more minutes of life, and she did it with no qualms or second thoughts," Genkai related as she wore a bleak look that emphasized her aging features. "However thoughtless or foolish it might have been, she did it."

"So from there, Munashii became Mr. Gothic Darkness, ne?" Yusuke supposed.

"From there, no one knew exactly what happened. Perhaps due to what had conspired, Munashii descended into a maniacal madness that drove him to-"

"Shatter his own soul," Kurama finished for Genkai. "From there, the legend of the soulless immortal human who stole peoples' lives began." He sighed as he looked at the two younger spirit detectives. They seemed to be taking the story quite well. It did quiet them down for a while.

"So..." Kuwabara started, intending to break the ice. "What does this have to do with us? I mean, what does Munashii want with you?" He shifted towards Kurama meaningfully, his earnestness apparent in his eyes.

"I don't know," Kurama confessed, giving Kuwabara a token smile that acknowledged his lack of knowledge. "For all I know, I could just be another victim; a youko's soul could probably prolong his life considerably. Who's to know?"

"I don't know about that. I think he'd be sick and tired of living that way. Why would he prolong his suffering?" Yusuke considered, again getting into the heat of the conversation.

"Because he wants to punish himself," explained a familiar voice.

The four resident ghost fighters froze in their place. Kurama was the first one to speak. "Hiei."

From out of the shadows, the jaganshi halfling came into the light. His katana shone a bright orange-red glint, while his crimson eyes wore a look of blankness and emptiness. Before anyone could react, he had already moved.

A bleak darkness and flashes of blue replaced the mellow light of the candlelit room. The fight had begun.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: The confrontation with soulless.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	4. Chapter 3: Sapling

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Chapter 3... Need I say more?

* * *

**Chapter 3: Sapling**

* * *

A collective silence filled the entire dojo. In this bleak obscurity, different degrees of attention came upon the depths of six various consciousnesses. A few moments later, eyes were again able to decipher, yet minds refused to believe; two silhouettes were dancing in the darkness, flashes of blue meeting up with the resistance of a golden light.

"...Munashii!" was all Yusuke could say. He may had not yet met the entity nor known him by any measure, but it was the only assertion about the situation that made sense. His head was in turmoil. His thought processes came up with the wildest conclusions-conclusions he refused to believe.

"...Hiei."

It came out as a whisper, but the impact of the words within Yusuke's psyche was far beyond that of decibel range. It wouldn't have made a difference if he shouted it out. He was still at a point of disbelief, but urgent matters pressed him to move forward to a new awareness. Hiei was possessed by Munashii; that was the simple truth.

And so now was time for the much more complicated action. Yusuke held up his pointer finger as a familiar warmth and energy rush seized his person, his reiki collecting into a concentrated ball of coalescing blue energy.

* * *

Soon, the two silhouettes came upon a frighteningly bright light-what the shorter of the two assessed as that annoying energy ball that the human shot with his finger aimed like a gun. Well, the half-demon looked ridiculous in his position, but the power of his Rei-Gan, as he so quaintly called it, was far beyond ridicule. The aforesaid shadow mentally snorted in disgust at the foolhardiness of the human, yet he watched in bewilderment as his companion silhouette froze, remaining in the path of the oncoming barrage of energy.

Bedlam erupted as piles of stone and rubble spread throughout the dojo after the Rei-Gan impacted. The dust cleared; the unscathed of the two combatants had no time to react to the onslaught of hard blows to his person.

"Hiei, you gotta snap out of this!" Yusuke pleaded... demanded... as he pushed on with his merciless offensive at the jaganshi halfling.

Hiei answered Yusuke's pleas by means of gutting the young detective with the base of the handle of his katana again and again, the sound of wood and metal pounding flesh akin to that of the thumping of those flying machines humans were so fond of using. The technique took place in just a span of several seconds.

In his fetal position, Yusuke took note of the annoyance in the fire demon's eyes. His own eyes narrowed into slits as his determination renewed. Faster than even Hiei could react, Yusuke rolled over and bowled out the youkai with an uppercut.

"Moron," Hiei stated as he simply glared at the stubborn human.

'I won't let you get manhandled like this, Hiei. You probably don't even know about it yet. I know you're going to hate me for saving you, but I guess you'll be worse off as a puppet of this Munashii character,' Yusuke thought as he braced himself for another assault. Hiei had already easily recovered from the surprise attack, none the worse for wear.

"Stop it... Yusuke!" came the outraged shout of Genkai.

The two fighters halted from attacking each other as they shifted their attentions toward two lone figures at a corner of the dojo.

Silence again filled the dojo as all eyes were fixed on two people; one that was recognizable as Kurama and another persona standing near a crater to where Yusuke's Rei-Gan impacted a while ago, covered by the dust that hadn't settled yet. Kurama was blocking the other person's ki-blade with his taut rose whip, the kitsune's steely gaze never leaving the shady figure's glare.

"You planned all of this... Didn't you, kitsune?" the other person stated as a fact, notwithstanding that the statement was in a form of a question.

"I figured it would be either Hiei or you; I guess I was half-right. You did have me going there for a while," Kurama divulged conversationally, almost cheerfully. "But why Kuwabara?"

The persona now identified as Kuwabara shrugged. "He was... shall we say... the most spiritually sensitive of you four."

Yusuke couldn't help but figuratively drop his jaw on the ground upon hearing the revelation. "So it was Kuwabara that Munashii possessed. But why did Hiei go berserk?"

Seeing that the thoroughly irritated jaganshi had no intention of answering the question, Kurama answered for him. "I think it probably had to do with his jagan and the fact that he knew everything even before any of us figured things out; and there's the fact he 'shoots first, asks questions later.'"

"Yet you figured everything out quite well, kitsune," the possessed Kuwabara drawled, his eyes half-lidded and his features showing apparent apathy and a hint of amusement after hearing a certain boy gleefully ask, 'Whaddya think of your new name?' He smirked grimly. "You never gave this boy any letter; you knew he would be the one."

"It doesn't really matter if I planned all this or not," Kurama stated matter-of-factly, not taking his eyes off the possessed boy. "Is it not true that you wanted me? I'm right here. What now?"

Munashii shook Kuwabara's head in a show of dismay. He held out his hand as he began concentrating golden energy on his palm.

Hiei reacted quickly, fleeing past the kitsune towards the possessed. The latter smiled darkly, his eyes never leaving the charging fire demon's.

The forbidden child stopped in midair as he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He chilled in realization. He looked down and saw the Rei-Ken tear deep into the muscle of his stomach. Kuwabara's features were almost sinister for a moment as he added to the fire demon's pain by twisting the embedded ki-blade like a corkscrew.

'Dammit. The human is now almost as fast as the creature that possessed him!' Hiei belatedly reflected as his vision blurred in searing pain.

"Hiei!" Yusuke shouted as he hesitantly prepared to strike with his Rei-Kou-Dan; to blast his ki-powered fist at an all-too-familiar face.

"Munashii, it's me that you want. Don't involve the others here," Kurama said darkly, his hands fiddling on the stem of an intimately known weapon.

"You still haven't figured it out, kitsune? Need I spell it out for you?" the being Munashii mockingly asked-the voice and the face not his own, but the intonation invariably him. "Should there be a need for blood to be shed for you to understand?"

"I'll personally send you back to Hell's Maw myself, you goddamned monster!" Hiei shouted as he pushed back and dislodged Kuwabara and the ki-blade away from him by shoving the tip of the sheath of his katana into the possessed detective's belly. He didn't hesitate to follow through some strikes of his own, but those were promptly blocked by Kuwabara's new unearthly reflexes.

Munashii easily recovered from the blow, though with Kuwabara's body, it was another story. He mentally noted the quivering and coughing reflexes his human marionette made from the fire demon's strike. He squinted his eyes to reassess the situation; first, the weakened fire demon.

Hiei crashed against the solid floor, bits of rubble and debris following his trail. The diminutive demon cursed to himself as the possessed teenager was actually able to execute several numbing strikes of his Rei-Ken unto him before he unceremoniously landed on the floor. The jaganshi halfling also dolefully noted how effective the Rei-Ken could be when used to its fullest potential before he was altogether knocked into unconsciousness.

"That is enough, Munashii!" Yusuke shouted at the marionette-like Kuwabara as he ran to prepare his own assault. Kuwabara always had a hard head, and surprising stamina at that. The raven-haired teen refused to believe that Kuwabara could be possessed by anyone against his will.

"So you're much more powerful now, Kuwabara? Faster? Stronger? Let's see how much of this you can take!" Yusuke taunted at the apathetic puppet, the latter merely tensing in response. Kuwabara easily evaded the swift ki-charged blow as it instead landed on the solid marble floor. Yusuke let out a maniacal grin.

An explosion of volatile reiki and debris rocked the whole dojo. A shower of pure spiritual energy hit Kuwabara's face in full force. Giving him no chance to recover, Yusuke followed through the ki-shower with an equally devastating Rei-Kou-Dan.

A Rei-Kou-Dan effortlessly parried by Kuwabara's free hand. With Yusuke's momentum broken, Kuwabara struck at Yusuke's side, dislocating a few ribs.

"I know all your tricks, Urameshi. Thanks to your friend," Kuwabara smirked, pointing towards his temple mockingly.

"The... h-hell... with this!" Yusuke spat, starting his attack anew. He demolished Kuwabara's defense with his volley of punches, throwing the battle back to his favor. But somehow, the possessed still managed to smack his open palm over Yusuke's face, drawing a burble of blood from the overzealous detective's broken nose.

Munashii intended to suffocate the young detective, but was interrupted by a well-placed blow over the throat. He noted that his host was now choking in his own blood, just like his friend. The two Reikai Tantei fell in a boneless heap.

Kuwabara gurgled incoherently as he wiped off the rust-tasting blood from his mouth, his blank eyes not leaving the perpetrator of the untimely disruption. Genkai eyed him warily as well; her blow should've rendered the boy unconscious for several more moments. She wordlessly helped Yusuke up, Kurama doing the same with Hiei.

"I shouldn't have underestimated you, old woman."

"You have Kuwabara's memories and Kuwabara's body, but you also have Kuwabara's limitations. He's only mortal; human. You are-" Genkai paused in mid-sentence.

"...Not. At least, not anymore," the possessed Kuwabara finished. He looked at Kurama, the former's melancholic smile never leaving his face. "So... Do you _always_ let your friends do your dirty work for you, kitsune?"

"What now, Munashii?" Kurama retorted. "Are you satisfied? I'm here. You want a youko's soul? Come and get it! No more tricks. Face me as is."

Munashii responded with a small chuckle from Kuwabara. "Is _that_ what you think this is about? That this is a mere give-and-take situation? This boy's soul in exchange for yours?" He shook his marionette's head in a mock display of disappointment. "I want something more than your soul, kitsune. I want _you_."

"What are you? Some sort of gay ghost?" Yusuke, after having recovered, yelped at the possessed boy, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You have a helluva way of wooing guys, lemme tell you!"

Kurama puzzled over what Munashii said. "What do you mean?"

"I love you, Minamino Shuichi."

* * *

From the relative calm of the patio of Genkai's temple, a palpable atmosphere of depression suddenly arose.

It was rather inexplicable. Everything was where it was supposed to be, and yet, at the same time, everything just... changed. The usually lush vegetation surrounding the veranda seemed drearier and darker. The sky seemed grayer than blue, while the animals-particularly, Yukina's dear birds-were now all fleeing inexplicably from... from what?

Strange.

Ever since Yukina stepped into the Human World, she couldn't help but marvel at the relative strangeness and splendor it presented to her. It was literally a whole new world, yet she also could not help disliking certain aspects of this so-called Ningenkai.

She had always loved nature-the 'ecology' of the Human World, as Genkai phrased it. In the frigid Land of the Koorime, there was no such thing. But here in this world, it was just bursting with it; bursting with life.

But then the environment of this world was quickly vanishing as the snow lady was just beginning to uncover its vast secrets and wonders; it was being destroyed by human progress. The cold, uncaring stone towers of progress was crushing her precious nature. Progress that, if it had its way in the Human World, would turn everything into a callous, unfeeling, and pitiless society; a dead society. It would still be the Human World, only different.

Just like now.

Acting on instinct and on the growing anxiety set in her heart, the young snow woman began moving towards the foreboding dojo, not noticing her lips move as it unconsciously let out a whisper of concern towards an unacknowledged kin.

* * *

Kurama scrambled for his thoughts with the unexpected turn of events. He didn't know whether to laugh, to recoil in aversion, or to simply stare dumbfounded in confusion. Well, the third of the three wasn't all that bad.

"You... aren't... serious... are you?" Kurama deliberately asked, picking his words carefully. Right now he didn't know what to think. The fact that it was Kuwabara in front of him saying all those things made the whole situation seem even more... ridiculous.

The possessed smiled-if one could call it that. It was neither cheerful nor malicious, but mostly... empty, with just a hint of sadness. "You've become everything that I've imagined you could be, given the situation. I swore to go against heaven and hell for you." He closed his eyes in contemplation. "That's why I have to do this."

Then there came a ripping sound; a horrid squeal of tearing far beyond that of life evanescent that soon erupted into a lethal fury no one could even begin to comprehend.

All three of Hiei's eyes widened in realization of the sight that beheld them. Just like in Munashii's corporeal form, a rift of utter emptiness and darkness was now where Kuwabara's chest used to be. Even though the young human's face still reflected his possessor's indifference, his rapidly paling white skin spoke volumes of what that black void was doing to him.

"What the HELL!" Yusuke verbalized everyone else's general sentiment. "You're _killing_ him!"

"Am I?" Munashii scoffed. "I wouldn't have to go to such lengths if you'd simply given me the kitsune from the get go. Besides, if I were you, I wouldn't be worried with _just_ Kuwabara Kazuma's life now." He turned towards Kurama and gave him a sort of half-smile.

"Heaven and hell."

Wordlessly, Yusuke aimed his hand directly at Kuwabara with a familiar thumb-and-forefinger gesture. He was prepared to literally blast the possessed boy to kingdom come if he had to, hoping against hope that somehow things would still work out fine.

"No, Yusuke!" Genkai shouted out, only to be seized by the throat by an invisible force. The old woman struggled in midair, helplessly choking under an unseen grip.

"Listen to her, Urameshi Yusuke. She knows a lot," Munashii derided, forcing the Master of the Spirit Light Wave with his imperceptible influence to nod in agreement. "This could've happened to you, you see."

Genkai's aura soon became visible to all present, but its luminosity then started to fade as tendrils of her smoke-like ki began to get vacuumed into the maelstrom of Munashii-Kuwabara's hollowness.

"Munashii! What do you want? Why are...? You're just a ghost...!" Genkai rasped.

"It's what I've lived for, died for, and have been erased to near non-existence for, old woman," Munashii deadpanned.

"LET GO OF HER!" Yusuke screamed, enraged. He wanted to move forward and crush Munashii's face... even if it wasn't the broken spirit's face or body, he just didn't care anymore. He would let his own instincts take reign, consequences be damned.

But he couldn't, even if he wanted to, as the same invisible force that seized Genkai in midair was now surrounding both predator and prey like an invisible barrier, preventing him from moving any further. The situation was getting way out of hand.

Soon, the aged martial artist seemed to become even older, her wrinkles deepening, her pupils disappearing, and her complexion approaching that of a chalk-white color. She was reflexively jerking as her aura soon sported the consistency of ash.

All were awestruck at the spectacle that unfolded in their midst. Hiei limped towards Kurama, motioning the kitsune towards the exit. Yusuke, in growing agitation, moved in front of the two youkai, acting as a shield lest Munashii shifted his attention towards them. Kurama, for the life of him, remained in his place.

Kuwabara gave the three spirit detectives a blank stare, then gazed back at the dying elder. "Be thankful that you aren't what I came here for, old woman."

He threw her to the nearest wall like a rag doll. A sickening thud was heard, the aged martial artist not moving from her place of impact. All eyes glared back at the possessed boy. A faint knocking was heard in the silence of the dojo, but no one took heed of it.

"Kurama, go with Hiei and get the hell out of here. I'll stall Munashii in the meantime," Yusuke earnestly commanded, not even looking back at the two. Hearing no response, he screamed out, "GO!"

"Don't tell me what to do," Hiei derisively sneered, even though he already had his hand on the hilt of his katana in an evident ready stance.

"But Yusuke, you saw what happened to Genkai-what she tried to stop from happening to you! Munashii will suck you dry! Your Rei-Gan will do nothing to damage him," Kurama protested.

The young spirit detective chuckled. "It'll be all right. Since when did I ever listen to granny anyway?" He then turned his attention to the imminent threat. He smiled grimly. "Bring it on, Kuwabara."

Munashii-Kuwabara stopped his leisurely pace in mid-step, then became a blur as his speed increased abruptly in a blink of an eye. He landed several stinging blows all over Yusuke's face, but the Reikai Tantei was able to improvise a makeshift defense to counter most of the blows, so none of them was actually devastating. From there, he went for the kill with a devastating uppercut.

Munashii easily recovered from the counter, but that was not the case for Kuwabara. Blow after merciless blow was followed up on the possessed, Yusuke not even giving him a chance to counterattack. Alas, as abruptly as the sleek-haired teenager had gotten his advantage, it suddenly vanished just as fast, along with his target.

"Too slow," Munashii rasped, disappearing and reappearing in various distances as he condescendingly beckoned the youth to begin his attack anew.

From there, Yusuke again picked up the pace as he unleashed a flurry of punches, this time hitting nothing but thin air. He cursed as in their exchange of parry-block-hit, Munashii still somehow broke several more of his bones, sending him skidding a number of feet away.

"Fox, run away!" Hiei insisted on the engrossed kitsune, the latter too hypnotized by the dance of death before him.

"Yusuke's still the better of the two when it boils down to fighting. But it's not just that Munashii's getting faster, despite Kuwabara's mortal body. It's also..." Kurama looked at the tiring Yusuke, "Yusuke is slowing down. His power is based on channeling generous amounts of reiki, while Munashii's power is based on siphoning all kinds of ki. Yusuke, you don't stand a chance!"

The dog-tired Yusuke looked at Kuwabara hazily, his blue and orange image blurring several times. He then had to shake his head just to clear it before directing a melancholic smirk towards the two youkai. "Just get the hell out of here."

A thunderous blast of light and energy streaked across the whole expanse of the dojo, sending Munashii-Kuwabara flying through the temple, hitting and breaking through columns like they were made out of gingerbread. A second blaze of incredible vigor burned through the trail the previous one left, this time impacting more violently towards the possessed. Wreckage, rubble, and debris were flung around like so many breadcrumbs, the wood and concrete of the shrine easily giving way to the consecutive incursions.

Yusuke didn't even flinch as his marionette-for-a-friend slowly got up from the ruins, none the worse for wear. He began walking across the trail of crushed and powdered fragments of what was once the floor. The dark hollow in the middle of the zombie-like teenager was now glowing, brimming with energy. This didn't even bother the Spirit Detective leader in the least as he followed up with another choleric wave of piercing spiritual power, one after another.

Rapidly, because of the incredible amount of energy released at such a short period of time, Yusuke began to weaken. Soon, the enormous streaks of reiki that the young half-demon shot continuously were replaced by that of reiki of arbitrate size, before they altogether dissipated into harmless heat and light. Munashii, unperturbed, continued his advance towards the battered and drained spirit detective.

In the corner of his eye, Munashii-Kuwabara saw the quite expected: a fire demon in a desperate attempt at battle. Kuwabara snorted derisively at the effort-an act that his possessor, Munashii, found curious.

Hiei ignored the pain searing on all four limbs of his body as well as the numerous other injuries on his person as he moved in for the kill. Making full use of his third eye, he resisted the invisible force of Munashii's own influence as he made a deep slash on the entity's marionette; at first hitting only the emptiness of the cavity, but as the slash completed its arc, also flesh and bone.

Munashii was helpless to act upon Kuwabara's body as it finally reached its limits. It reflexively recoiled in intense pain as it lost a large amount of blood from the deep cut on the shoulder. The being focused to take control of the teenager's bodily functions so as to skip some of its natural reaction to stimuli.

That done, he easily blocked another oncoming slash from the Demon World fighter, the blade harmlessly hitting his forearm, the most damage it did was leaving an imprint on his borrowed skin. After that, he said words that woke the fire demon up to a frightening realization.

"Rei-Gan."

The barrage of unrelenting reiki hit the jaganshi halfling with the force of a tidal wave, crushing him with its enormous metaphorical mass.

The shattered soul deemed that a reassessment of the situation was in order. The irritating little fighters were far more... persevering than he previously thought. He shifted his glance towards the kitsune. He seemed paralyzed in shock.

All of the fighters had the potential to stop short his little escapade; though materializing yet again in his corporeal form was readily an option given the situation. They were simply delaying the inevitable. He had no time for delays. Despite all the grueling years he spent as a wandering half-man, he never quite learned the value known as patience.

It was time to finish off the nearest threat.

The weary Yusuke Urameshi glanced up at the towering menace that wore his friend and rival's face. A faint but definite knocking was heard from the background, becoming more insistent. It stopped as Munashii-Kuwabara's voice echoed across the emptiness of the dojo.

"Now is the time for you to die, Urameshi."

The addressed cracked a weak smile. "Wow, Kuwabara. You finally got what you wanted. You beat me."

Munashii wondered at the slight wince his host body made before he prepared his Rei-Ken for the killer blow. He also noted a sudden piercing sensation that surrounded his throat.

"I'm beginning to sense that you people have an affinity for this boy's neck," Munashii despondently quipped as he realized that the sharp sting his host was experiencing actually 'stemmed' from Kurama's very own Rose Whip. The jagged thorns tore deep into the boy's neck; just one little pull was all it took.

"Do it," Munashii dared.

From the tone and determination that came from the voice, Kurama couldn't exactly tell if it was either Munashii or Kuwabara talking. He held steadfastly what was literally Munashii-Kuwabara... no... Kuwabara's lifeline.

"You didn't spare Toguro Ani, because of desperate circumstances of great consequence, yet you couldn't kill good ol' Kuwabara-kun for the life of you," Munashii evaluated, prodding the kitsune further by slipping the Rose Whip a couple of centimeters tighter around his puppet's neck.

"Coward," Kurama spat darkly, still keeping a steely grip on his favored weapon, yet not even moving it an inch further to finally fulfill its dismal purpose. "You played behind the shadows, but you're only controlled by wanton desires, having no will of your own. You're the puppet here!"

"Half-right, kitsune," Munashii answered as he fiddled with the thorny, vine-like whip before it began to wither away. It eventually gained the consistency of papyrus as it harmlessly wilted into brown, brittle foliage. There was a strange hint of sadness in Munashii's borrowed eyes. "Why were you always such a martyr?"

Voicelessly, Yusuke Urameshi let out a silent scream as he saw his youko companion flung helplessly to a nearby wall, pinned to it by a long, lance-like Rei-ken; a perverted version of a butterfly getting pinned to a display case. Next thing the great half-demon warrior knew, he was crumpling to the ground like a wet noodle care of a swift kick to the gut by a certain passerby.

Seemingly admiring his gruesome handiwork, the intrepid entity directly addressed his victim.

"It's time, Minamino Shuichi."

* * *

An unfamiliar sensation of panic grabbed hold of the snow lady's heart as she stopped insistently knocking on the large dojo doors. She stopped after hearing Kuwabara's voice... usually filled with life and clumsy passion... register as dead and monotone as he said something usually characteristic of him as a joking address to his friend, except the intonation made its meaning radically different and strange for him to say.

"Now is the time for you to die, Urameshi."

The seriousness of his voice-No, the emptiness of his voice had left the jaganshi in a condition of worry and trepidation. 'What's happening to Kazuma-san?' It probably had something to do with the new unknown foe Genkai was talking about.

There was something else that had also put her in an awkward position of uncertainty; the feeling that she had a while ago in the front yard. She could've sworn-But if he was here...!

The koorime stopped the futility of knocking as she concentrated within herself her own spiritual powers so as to go against the invisible force well within the dojo doors.

* * *

Munashii-Kuwabara's touch was surprisingly soft as his hand gently played with the light-red strands of Kurama's hair. His eyes remained dreary and listless, yet those blank pupils had an emphatic quality in them. Was it pity? Or was it perhaps something more profound? His unreadable features were in stark contrast to whatever meaning those eyes were trying to convey.

Kurama looked at Kuwabara as the possessed boy's eyes started to gain a strange violet color in them, not unlike fiery blue coals. The redhead shut his eyes, neither out of fear nor hesitation towards death. It was merely a fitting thing to do in the situation. It made sense, even though it actually held no logic. In the darkness amidst the youko, the after-flash of Munashii-Kuwabara's eyes burned in his memory. 'How is it? What is it like to feel nothing?'

A faint smile crept into Kuwabara's mouth, signifying amusement. "Why do you have to always empathize with your opponents? You'll spare yourself a whole lot of trouble by not bothering with that."

"If it's all so important to you, then just do it."

The youko didn't even see it coming. It just came, with no further disputation nor contention; not even an acknowledgement of the fact from his captor. Typically, Kurama began to assess the circumstances. Not so typically, his almost clinical evaluations soon became tinged with a flood of emotions; something much more typical of humans. Mere humans.

'So,' Kurama thought to himself drowsiness began to subtly but firmly intrude upon his consciousness. 'This is the way I'm going to die.'

Kurama contemplated a death where his very being-his very essence-would be sucked out of him. Not nearly like the warrior's death he was expecting nor the peaceful one he wanted, but it seemed oddly... fitting, for some reason. A grand death for a youko who betrayed his own identity to become something he was not. It was so very appropriate.

From there, it began.

Kurama didn't fight it anymore. In fact, he felt sort of resigned to the situation. He did not feel panic as tendrils of his youki began to get sucked into an abyss of inimitable depth and void, despite its appearance. While he was not at all comfortable with his present condition, a lethargy-induced acquiescence drowned his earlier reflexive panic. It was not unlike his detached and calculating deliberations in a fight, only that his acceptance had come to him more as a finality than anything else.

It was the finality of death. The inevitability of one's identity being erased in an instant; the demon fox never had such leisure. He had flirted with death many times. It was a constant companion to him. Even he, the elusive Youko Kurama, could not escape the inexorability of death; yet he never had to fear of having his entire existence erased, knowing what he was.

It was so, until now. Perhaps... perhaps it was an end he wanted after all?

Such fancy words soon began to fade into inconsequence as the once feared Youko Kurama was soon reduced to a quivering, pathetic human whose life was about to be taken away from him. Kurama chuckled at that last thought. It was something he would have said about the situation had he not been shot down and forced into hiding... forced to take a human pup's body as refuge... if he were still the great Youko Kurama.

How much of him had changed? Such thoughts had bothered him even way back during the Demon World tournament, but his resolution to it all-his answer to the question, abstract as it was-was reflected in his ultimate decision.

His choice was to live his life as a human. He still couldn't explain why he did what he did. Not entirely, not in a logical and rational manner that actually made sense. In short, not in a way that would have made sense to him. Maybe it was one of the few things that didn't actually need to make sense.

Who was he? What had become of him?

Memories began floating by; tiny vessels of the past. His past. A past that was mostly filled with his daring escapades and his lust for the unattainable... or what was supposedly unattainable, since he 'attained' each and every one of them. Those were all his prizes-big and small, tangible and intangible, real and ethereal-it didn't matter to him. The thrill of the hunt was far more valuable than the prizes, at the time. He was always looking for something.

It was curious, given his age and experience, how much his present human life had affected him. It had far more impact than his previous youko life should've had. It was very curious, indeed. In his past life, he had but one regret; that of the demise of Kuronue, his trusted ally. His partner's death was even an inevitability. Kurama couldn't blame himself for it, though he mourned for the loss. His human life, on the other hand...

It was an existence full of contradictions. He never had to second-guess himself before, but he had to with the kind of life he had now. He never expected himself to be so protective and caring of his adoptive mother. He never expected himself to become a Spirit Detective, even if he was forced into it. He never expected himself to be anything other than Youko Kurama, which was probably why he could never see himself as one person: Youko Kurama and the human Shuichi Minamino, or perhaps the human, Kurama.

He was human, yet he was youkai. He never considered himself human, but somehow it simply became a part of him. It was merely a disguise, just a mere masquerade, yet one that fit quite nicely with his personality. He couldn't deny that it was now a component of him, an element that made him whole, one way or another. Being part human didn't bother him a bit, as was his choice to live as one.

He soon drew in ragged breaths-an expected reaction, given that his life energy was quickly being drained off of him-yet the sensations that followed were things that he didn't anticipate at all. A faint shattering within his consciousness that was not induced by fear or agitation soon broke open his mental defenses. It was as if his very thoughts were...!

Violet eyes glinted back at him; so very much like his Kuronue's eyes while he was left dangling on sharpened bamboo shoots. Listless eyes; although they also had the strange humor he thought he imagined in his dead partner's stare. It was a look that bore some sort of realization of irony... like his black raven's languid stare that1 seemed to say, 'Well, it seems you were right again, fox.'

It wasn't a sight he wanted to behold, then and now.

It did not matter that a person who appeared to be a familiar ally was now holding him against the wall after the lethal lance of golden ki disappeared a long time ago. Munashii's expression bore no resemblance to the face he was wearing. There was not a shadow of a doubt that this was his eternally damned stalker.

It was then that he began to notice it-his memories that were suddenly flooding his mind with a superfluity of reminiscence and circumspection; memories of his mother, Kuronue, Yusuke, Kuwabara-kun, Hiei... and what was being done to them.

'...NO!'

With a single phrase, a mere word that was followed by faint glimmers of awareness, the kitsune was soon overcome by a chaotic mix of confusion and pandemonium as his thought processes-his very precious thought processes-were rendered into complete chaos and bedlam.

A single memory filled his mind-that of the gruesome death of his beloved friend and ally.

"Kuronue," a voice uttered, but it did not belong to the youko. It instead belonged to Kuwabara. Further shock became apparent in Kurama's features as the spoken word soon bore neither meaning nor familiarity to him... only a forgotten urgency to it that the redhead couldn't place.

Another memory appeared in Kurama's mind-that of his meeting with a young man on the rooftop, in a bargain for a dear sweet woman's life.

A young man-a brash, impetuous young man and a dear friend-the person lying several feet away from him... a... a...

Stranger?

Kurama glared at his captor, to which the latter returned in kind with a crooked smile from the familiar face he wore. A brusque yet kind-hearted young man whose utter simplicity lay his very charm.

A familiar face; how could he possibly forget the face of... another total stranger?

"Dammit, Munashii!" Kurama shouted, showing a rare display of temper. "What are you doing to me?"

Indigo coals of fire looked back at the kitsune; perhaps, for the first time, indigo coals that held some sort of meaning and life in them. "I want your soul, Minamino Shuuichi; every last bit of it."

Kurama had another memory of a dear yet unlikely ally; deadly yet merely misunderstood. A brooding creature, yet he longed merely for the completion of his identity; a longing for a reason to live. He was a forbidden child from the very start.

A sense of apparent urgency filled Kurama. It was an urgency he couldn't place, yet still it screamed out at him until it faded into irrelevance.

"Hiei," Munashii almost breathed the word, not unlike the last note of a master opus.

Kurama again looked listlessly at the puppet man, not fully comprehending the apparent significance of the word... name... he had just heard yet feeling a certain amount of alarm he could not exactly place. Anxiety soon overcame him as he clung to the last bit of memory that made sense to him.

'Kaasan.'

His words turned out to be useless as his thoughts became more abstract; more primal. It was the ultimate insult to one as intelligent as the great Youko Kurama; to be reduced to a level of utter unintelligence... eating up everything... every abstract and complex thought, every level of awareness of his own existence... up to his very last words. No! He was not an animal...!

He observed in an odd mixture of awe, panic, and uncertain acceptance his slowly failing verbal communication abilities as it got washed away by mere human-no, animal instinct. He was beginning to have second thoughts on his earlier acknowledgement of the situation as he held onto one last intelligible thought:

'It's a pity that it's going to be an insulting end, after all.'

His final word. The final word that actually made sense to him-one that he used over and over until it too lost its meaning. 'NO! NO! No! No. No. No. Nonononononononononono...'

Images began to flood the mindless youko; familiar, but also beyond the comprehension of his slowly degenerating mind; images that became swirls of unintelligible color and movement. It wasn't unlike an infant's first wake in the world as it looked around in an altogether extraterrestrial environment, trying to make sense of it all.

A silken darkness draped over Kurama's subconscious.

"It's nearly done, Asuka-san."

* * *

A tall, blind demon that had a definite regal aura about him that others couldn't immediately pinpoint now stood a fair distance away from a man whom he thought he knew very well. Yet now, he felt like he was staring at a completely different person.

"Why, Kurama? Why?" There was no anger in his statements, just a fair amount of shock and confusion. That was his question, yet he was actually asking, 'Why didn't you finish off Shigure as a youko? Why do you deny yourself your true nature?'

The bloodied youko... no, human or whatever he was... moved his head towards the figure's direction, his eyes blocked by long strands of his hair. There was a slight pause before he spoke.

"I fought as myself," he disclosed simply, yet his evergreen eyes were full of meaning once they finally came to view as he continued, "I was not second-guessing. This is who I am. This is what makes up my identity now, Yomi."

An out-of-the-blue brightness surrounded Yomi, enveloping and swallowing the silhouette of the powerful Demon World ruler. The bright light was accompanied by a voice-a voice that the kitsune recognized as his own, yet it was not.

"I fought as myself. This is what makes up my identity now. I am a youkai yet I chose to live as a human. This is the decision I stand by." Flashes of images surrounded the kitsune; memories unrecognizable, yet somehow familiar.

A single thought filled his mind. The kind, gentle woman who was his-

'Mother.'

She was the one who gave birth to this pup that was now him. He couldn't explain it. He still considered himself a youko, yet he had turned his back on that life and on his old youko self to live peacefully as a... human being.

"I love you so much, Shuichi," she had said dozens of times, until the words he at first couldn't quite comprehend were now the words he always cherished to hear.

It was just as Yomi believed, yet was all this-to live a human life-done in mere gratitude? Or was he a youko living a human's life; something that he should never have gotten or deserved?

"...And I will protect this decision and this identity that makes up my life now, no matter what."

He would do just that, even if it was the same identity that eluded him any explanation or description.

* * *

Munashii heaved a resigned sigh. "Such is the willpower of the living... Isn't it so, kitsune? It seems you do not even know what you really want."

Kurama spoke in between ragged breaths, "I... cannot... allow you to... do... that... Not at this point."

Munashii contemptuously snorted, his change in attitude perhaps influenced by the life force he'd just sucked up, making him more animated than before, or perhaps it was due to irritation even a being like him couldn't take.

"What's the point of all this, Kurama? Why do you continue to be so adamant and stubborn? You've abandoned your youko past, yet you insist on your being a youkai while living a human's life? Does that make any sense to you?"

Kurama contemplated the half-man's words carefully. For the first time, Munashii had addressed him formally with his actual name, and not with his human name, yet the being did keep referring to "getting Minamino Shuichi's soul," and never used it to refer to Kurama's youko self. Rather, it seemed that Munashii was referring to _Minamino's_ soul as a separate entity altogether. Did that mean...?

"There is no Minamino Shuichi," Kurama stated, finally recovering his breath. He was still a little woozy, but at least he now had his memories and sense-of-self intact. And he wanted it to remain that way.

"In a manner of speaking, he... never had the chance to live. I've inhabited this human pup's body before any human soul could be formed. Therefore, no two souls could ever exist in here," he pointed to himself.

"I am Kurama; just Kurama. Minamino Shuichi doesn't exist," the kitsune repeated, ending his diatribe with a shrug. It was such a waste. To think, all that needless effort-

A laugh; a rather maniacal laugh echoed throughout the dojo. Kuwabara looked more like himself with the mirth Munashii showed. The hollowness within Kuwabara's person seemed to glow in concurrence to Munashii's laughter.

"_I_ am not supposed to exist, kitsune," Munashii retorted, then he laughed some more-as if he were laughing at the funniest joke in the world, a joke that only he could understand. But then, he stopped. There was a pause.

"GIVE ME BACK MINAMINO SHUICHI'S SOUL!" he screamed, in equal madness as before, if not more so. The void in his borrowed body brimmed to life as he renewed his torturous endeavor.

A primal shout of equal strength to the previous-a warbling cry that bordered on lunacy-echoed consecutively, the hot-blooded voice tinged with utter desperation.

"You again?" the possessor deadpanned, untroubled by the rapidly approaching jaganshi bullet whose crimson and luminescent-green eyes glinted of murderous intent.

* * *

'Stupid fox. You should have run away while you still can,' Hiei brooded. It was all he could do, given his situation. Twice already, the bastard entity had beaten him up to a bloody pulp without so much as a relative sweat. He was beaten up without any effort at all.

He didn't like that one bit.

He didn't even get the satisfaction of giving his opponent a hard time. That was the ultimate insult to him, a Class-S demon; whatever that meant, what with the Spirit World's stupid rating system and all.

Basically, 'Class-S' meant just one thing to the fire demon; that he was one of the most powerful youkai, if not the most powerful youkai. He couldn't-shouldn't-be humiliated like this, not a demon of his caliber. Not twice, at the very least.

What really irked the jaganshi to no end was Kurama's atypical reaction to the situation. Sure, in the past he had procrastinated up to the last minute before performing the dirty deed, but at least he had gotten results in his otherwise profligate deliberations. But now... now...!

Kurama was acting just like... like... that stupid Yusuke or that idiot Kuwabara; like a typical, pathetic little human. Only this time, there was a lack of acting on his part. He'd appeared uncertain before; always second-guessing his moves, always hesitating. It was not unusual of the fox, in retrospect. But now he really was being doubtful of himself.

'Idiot.'

The kitsune's constant indecisiveness had left him at the mercy of the shadow man, left Yusuke sprawled on the floor just like the weak human that he was, and Hiei... ribbed, slashed, and blasted, in that order.

The jaganshi halfling doubted that he had enough strength to move forward with one last strike; the tremendous force of that gigantic Rei-Gan had nearly burned him to a crisp while his bruises, cuts, and fractures hadn't really healed up all that much either. He was really in bad shape, to say the least, and it was all thanks to the dithering Kurama.

Hiei watched Kurama's pitiable condition worsen as the kitsune was helplessly pinned to the wall care of the being's puppet Kuwabara, then as the fox's very own horrified mind was sucked into the inimitable hollowness of the creature's very essence-a fact provided by his versatile jagan.

All the while, the ostracized jaganshi was not able to act because of the growing numbness in his body.

Hiei almost felt as wretched as Kurama.

Yet he was still determined; determined in defeating the hollow man, and determined in saving the fox's life, for all it was worth to him. Unfortunately, fatigue had worn him down, among other things.

Kurama didn't give in just yet. He still fought with his mind and spirit. He didn't let Munashii's influence take a complete hold of him and suck out his very quintessence. If he had only done so before, instead of being so capriciously tentative...

'Foolish fox.'

But Kurama was still in danger, and the jaganshi's eyes blazed with a passion for retribution. It was too bad that Hiei's body, in turn, equally smoldered in agony and anguish. Hiei winced as he slowly got up. Each and every movement took the breath out of him in his utter pain and suffering.

The damnable void in the cumbersome human's person had reactivated once more. The threat was still there, and Kurama was helpless. Hiei ignored the tremendous pain. He was able to survive the operation of his evil eye, damn it! This was nothing compared to that.

Hiei's knees buckled, the pressure of his own weight too much for his weakened state. The half-breed cursed his apparent moment of weakness as his sheathed sword served as a cane that kept him from collapsing altogether... collapsing like a helpless old man.

Hiei nearly fell again as he tried to stand up, much to his frustration. He had to face facts. He was about as much a threat to Munashii as Kurama was, given his condition. That was the truth, and he hated every minute of knowing it.

The fire demon's crimson eyes suddenly widened, his third, resplendent one giving acknowledgement to a chilling foreboding caused by his recognition of a very familiar ki-signature nearby. No further consideration was necessary.

From there, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Munashii-Kuwabara was barely able to evade Hiei's oncoming attack, teleporting at the very last moment as the blade hit the air where his torso had been.

From the distance to where he was standing now, the possessed suddenly lanced the jaganshi's side with an elongated Rei-Ken... A Rei-Ken that never hit its target as the fire demon suddenly gained incredible speeds that made him look like he was perfectly healthy and at full power, fresh as ever before.

But all the fire demon's strikes sliced only nothingness as the being again used his influence to teleport through various distances, always on the defensive.

Kurama let out a course and throaty gasp as Kuwabara suddenly plunged into Hiei's katana. Yet there was no rain of blood that gushed forth.

The puppet took hold of the katana embedded within his person... or rather, within the void that was, in turn, within his person. Curiously, even though the curved sword had gone pretty deep within the hollow space, its pointed tip didn't go through Kuwabara's back.

Hiei shook in rage as he tried to pull free his sword, but it was to no avail. The momentum of his desperate move, as well as the rush of adrenaline that came with it, was quickly dissipating and was rapidly replaced by the damnable, gnawing pain and his ever-growing fatigue. Yet he didn't relinquish his hold of his favored weapon, not at all admitting defeat.

Munashii-Kuwabara ignored the blood dripping from his hand while he held the sharp blade as he stated, "What a pity. This time, you're really going to die." He subsequently made a small ki-knife aimed directly at the jaganshi's third eye.

The very quick and powerful thrust borne out of pure desperation cut through the air so fast that Kuwabara's body barely felt a thing. Horror struck Kurama's features as he saw Hiei's katana fly upward into the air, glinting a crimson shine.

Munashii... and Kuwabara... looked dumbly at Kuwabara's hand, part of his upper thumb missing and dripping in blood. He... or maybe they... also noted that part of Kuwabara's left ear was also missing... proof of which was the liquid warmth he felt at the side of his head down to his neck. Realization soon became evident with both the puppet and the puppeteer.

A scarlet fountain sprayed through Kuwabara's upper-left breast up to most of his left shoulder, bathing him in the warmth of his own blood. There was a long silence. There was not a stir of motion to be felt or seen inside the room.

It was so until the gleam of realization in Kuwabara's eyes was replaced by a haze of dementia. "HIS SOUL IS _MINE_!"

Hiei looked briefly at Kurama before he fell into his ready stance. His eyes spoke volumes.

'I have no choice but to kill him.'

The two combatants flew onto each other like birds of prey, their weapons like talons; ready to kill with one strike. A golden flash met up with a blue streak...

A flare of bright light assailed Kurama's senses. He was surprised by what he saw.

"Kazuma-san! Brother! Please STOP!" Yukina shouted as flakes of ice danced around her while little sparkling jewels cascaded down on her cheeks.

A scream. Silence.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: The aftermath of the events.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	5. Chapter 4: Shrubbery

Sitting on a high chair within the confines of what seemed to be the administrative office of a person with a high-ranking position was Lord Koenma-the acting Administrator for the Spirit World. He was the one who decided where the spirits of the dead go, and he was damn good at the job, too.

"Ooooh boy," Koenma, Lord Prince of the Dead, second most powerful being in the Spirit World, yelped.

The events in Genkai's dojo weren't supposed to turn out that way. Since Koenma was the one who decided where the spirits of the dead go, with him being the next most dominant authority in Reikai, answerable to only one person and all that, well... he should've found a way to make sure things weren't supposed to turn out that way. It just wasn't fair.

Although _that_ was exactly what he was afraid of; with everything that occurred, he was most certainly, completely answerable to one person-his father, the Lord of the Dead, _the_ most powerful being in the Spirit World-Enma Daio.

"It's not as if it was _my_ mess I have to clean up," Koenma whispered sullenly to himself as silently as possible, paranoia taking over as he feared that somehow his father would overhear and give him some sort of parental disciplinary sanction. He shuddered. "Last time, I couldn't sit down on any kind of chair for a _month_."

"What was that, Lord Koenma?" Botan, ferry-girl extraordinaire, cheerily asked, oblivious of the deep blush that formed on her boss's face.

Koenma coughed once before replying, "Uh, nothing, nothing." He resumed his previous discourse with the ferry-girl. "Um, from all the information-gathering we've been doing..."

Botan thoughtfully put her finger on her chin, innocently clarifying, "Oh, you mean all the 'surveillance' we've been doing in your office where we just sat there and watched while three of your Spirit Detectives nearly had their souls sucked dry?"

Koenma groaned, hoping Botan's statement didn't sound as bad as it did. "Uh, yeah. Well, from all the information-gathering that we've been doing, as well as the in-depth research I've been making in the Great Ancient Library, I've come to the conclusion that-" He heaved a sigh of trepidation as he said the words.

"No way! _Him_?" the ferry-girl queried, recognition evident in her voice. She had heard rumors and tales about him. He was such a tragic character to begin with. But he was just rumors and tales to her until now.

Koenma nodded ruefully. "I know it'll be difficult, but I want you to relay the following information to the Spirit Detectives, particularly Kurama."

Botan giggled nervously. "Difficult. Good one. After leaving them alone with that guy for a few days, not knowing who or what he is, it would be safe to assume that, well, as Yusuke would say, they'd be more than a little 'pissed.'"

"Ah, we really have no jurisdiction there." Koenma sweatdropped, mortified. It had taken him a while to figure out just who they were dealing with, and-after much deliberation-how they were going to deal with him. The enemy moved stealthily and unexpectedly; that, coupled with Spirit World red tape and bureaucracy concerning certain classified files with very sensitive information, had caused many of the delays.

"Just go ahead and tell them all the vital information that they need to know while extending my sincerest apologies for the delays." Koenma shifted uncomfortably on his seat. "As of now, investigation is still pending after the tumultuous events that has happened in Genkai's dojo. It's vital that we examine further the circumstances leading to this sensitive situation. Do I make myself clear, Botan?"

"Yes! I'll do my best, Lord Koenma! Wish me luck!" the Angel of Death confirmed brightly, muttering under her breath, "I'll be needing it."

Koenma sighed at the retreating figure of a certain shinigami, her paddle in tow. The toddler then looked at the darkened monitor in front of him and then sighed for the hell of it. This was not a good day. Or a good month. He suffered through thirty days in hell; literally, if one actually noted where he was. The centuries-old infant blinked at the quip.

'Hell' was more of a complicated situation than a place he was currently inhabiting. The current state of affairs were far more vexing to the Prince of the Dead than the visions of fire and brimstone usually associated with hell.

_Of course_ he was more scared of the present circumstances than an actual place located in Level 17 Block 8 of the Corporeal Punishments Sector. But he was getting ahead of himself again. 'So it has been a month, eh?' he thought wistfully.

Koenma pulled out his special TV/VHS universal remote control from under the drawer of his table and hit the power switch. He stared listlessly for a while at the static feed of his special Spirit World TV/VHS Monitor before hitting the replay button.

'Father, why do you always have to leave your messes to me?'

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Chapter 4... I made it! I made it!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Shrubbery**

* * *

Metal fought against pure energy; sparks flew as sweat and blood showered the two fighters rushing onto each other like rabid wolverines. But one of the combatants had the misfortune of getting distracted by a next of kin's anguished presence.

The metal sword clanked a good distance away as the jaganshi hybrid rubbed his sore wrist. He afterwards barely evaded nearly getting flung to the nearby wall care of a javelin-like ki-lance. Hiei's inhuman speed was the only thing that saved him from the oncoming onslaught of strikes by the now near-insane, still-possessed Kuwabara.

Hiei had no choice. He had to make a gamble.

Ignoring the intense pain that added even more exhaustion to his already fatigued self, the fire demon bit his lip as a lengthy ki-lance plunged into his left hand, not unlike a long crucifixion nail.

The possessed boy was now wide open.

Hiei thrust his free hand upon the wound on the marionette's left breast, shoving its entirety upon it. A horrified and panicked screech of agony-barely human in its intensity-assailed the jaganshi's sensitive hearing as he twisted his hand further, adding even more searing pain to the maniacal puppet.

Just then, the dojo doors flew open, letting a flare of bright light enter the darkened dojo.

Kurama could barely distinguish the figure that suddenly appeared, merely gaping at the apparition draped in an immaculate light. A gust of cold wind suddenly caressed the youko's face. Realization struck his features like an audible slap as a small snowflake gently landed on his face, melting like a tear on his cheek.

Desperately, Kuwabara ripped away his ki-lance out of the forbidden child's hand, nearly tearing apart the appendage. Thusly, Hiei fell and landed on the smashed and crumbling floor, blood and stone pelting across the ground.

Hiei had finally gone above and beyond his limits. Every muscle in his body ached from the effort he exerted in his last ditch effort to save the idiot kitsune's... and probably somebody else's... life.

His various other injuries now came into his attention as they chose that particular moment to make their presence known. His nearly severed left hand, his fractured ribs, his torn-up gut, countless cuts, and bruises; they all sang a simultaneous cacophony of agony.

Hiei came back to awareness, astonished with the fact as he continued to endure the torture of all his excruciating injuries, looking languidly at the approaching pawn, Kuwabara. The jaganshi's small crimson eyes, for a change, reflected apathy while the tall human lackey's, in turn, reflected murderous lunacy.

The forbidden child would've chuckled at the thought, had it not hurt to do so. He couldn't care less anyway. The battle was already over, as far as he was concerned.

* * *

Faint glimmers of awareness began to rudely intrude upon Kuwabara's consciousness. There was a distant voice-he thought he heard a precious and wondrous voice he recognized as coming from his aqua-haired goddess. He suddenly decided that the aforesaid faint glimmers weren't so rude after all.

However, a sense of alarm filled him as he recognized the sadness and desperation within the plea. Somebody had hurt his dear, darling Yukina? Damn them! Surely, they would pay dearly for this insolence. It was the least a true man would do.

How dare they! They made Yukina sad. They brought melancholy in her life! Whoever did this would... must... face the wrath of Kazuma Kuwabara. Only a true man could teach a dreg of society true manliness!

The earlier not-so-annoying awareness had become annoying again as it gradually pervaded Kuwabara's mind in mid-thought. His fantasies of Divine Retribution and honorable manliness were slowly replaced by-

'What the HELL?'

Reality.

* * *

Tiny jewels cascaded upon Yukina's flushed cheeks; little falling stars in the early morn. The expression of horror was etched on her frail features as she shook her head in disbelief, sprinkling the glittering gems all over herself like pixie dust.

There she saw the bloodied katana, the near-dead fire demon, and the almost mechanical, indifferent stare the prodigal jaganshi gave to the taller, red-haired boy whose eyes, in turn, shone a glint of homicidal hysteria.

Her voice nearly choked in emotion, she gave out one last, desperate plea. It was her one last cry, one last appeal for reason-one last call for sanity.

"Kazuma-san! Brother! Please STOP!"

* * *

First there was only darkness; darkness with seemingly inimitable depth; an everlasting void. His vision adjusted enough to distinguish the bright light in the corner of his eyes-eyes whose earlier madness were now replaced with utter puzzlement. There, in the hazy luminescence, stood an angel of beauty and...

Sadness?

Then, at that very moment, the numbness that permeated in his whole body was shattered by a plethora of... agony. He couldn't think... because of it... 'Somebody... anybody... stop the pain... please...' he beseeched to no one in particular, the mere fact that he was in such a pathetic condition not angering him in the least simply because it was hard as hell to think of anything else except the unworldly pain that was now coursing through his entire body.

Nearly blacking out with the incredible amount of suffering he was subjected to, he clung to a single, coherent thought; the only thought that was able to break through his heavy brick wall of utter anguish.

Yukina was hurt and somebody must pay.

Nearly feverish, Kuwabara hobbled aimlessly across the demolished dojo floor until he stumbled and fell on... something. It grunted a sort of familiar grunt; an "annoying and arrogant bastard" type of grunt, to be exact.

Kuwabara glared-or made a near facsimile of a glare as he winced in agony at the same time-at the figure of a spiky-haired imp lying pathetically on the... floor?

'What the hell's going on here? What the hell is Hiei doing here? Did... what's-his-name... Musashi... do this?' Kuwabara internally debated, taken aback by the unnerving, listless stare the fire demon gave him.

Hiei's deadened gaze was soon replaced by a straightforward questioning glare. Kuwabara merely returned it with a look of confusion as he gazed at his own bleeding shoulder, the deep gash oozing with a crimson warmth.

'When... How did I get this?'

Kuwabara's eyes warily darted back and forth across Hiei's prone form, and he did not like what he saw. He then confusedly looked at his own condition; the missing flesh from his thumb, the various deep gashes on his person, and so on. He saw everything, _felt_ everything, but he couldn't understand, or rather, _believe_ anything he saw or felt for the life of him.

A fleeting look of realization that was soon drowned out by further confusion met the curly-haired teenager's features after he saw Hiei's glinting katana a few feet away from him.

Kuwabara grasped for an explanation, any explanation, on what was going on; he was desperate. He felt like he was drowning in the deep blue sea, frantically grasping for any flotsam or even floating bodies to keep himself buoyant-anything to keep him from getting swallowed by the cold, unknown depths-in the dark waters of ignorance and confusion.

Yukina froze in her place, not knowing what to do or what to say as two of the dearest people in her life were blanketed in pain, suffering, and uncertainty.

Hiei merely watched as the pitiable human looked wildly around him in near hysteria-almost akin to his earlier murderous frenzy, only more pathetic.

Comprehension finally dawned in Kurama's eyes as he gently asked the distraught boy in a raspy voice, "Ku-Kuwabara-kun, is that you?"

The orange-haired boy looked at the youko with an almost maniacal enthusiasm as he gave out his acknowledgement to the question, neither minding its meaning nor purpose. "Kurama! I'm so glad! It seems like I've been out of it for quite a while. Say, can you explain what's going on?"

It was a simple question that not even the great Youko Kurama could answer. From there, thirty seconds of silence passed that all of them felt forever.

* * *

"So that was that," Koenma muttered to himself as he pushed the stop button. The static feed crackled in the background before the screen blacked out in silence, the infant prince returning to his deep meanderings in the meantime. 'It was a good thing Kuwabara chose that particular moment to exorcise his 'demon'. If he hadn't, then he and Hiei would've been both dead.'

He stopped his contemplations at mid-thought after seeing a particularly large stack of papers with bulky blue legs and arms enter his office, apparently walking backwards.

"Oh, hello Mr. Stack-of-Papers!" he cheerfully called out. The stack-of-papers-with-legs-and-arms waved back, albeit facing the wrong way. Koenma then calmly proceeded to bang his head repeatedly on the table.

"Er, Lord Koenma? What're you doing? That looks quite painful," 'it' said.

"Ga-h! It talks!" Koenma continued banging his head with renewed fervor.

"Eh?" it assessed. "Lord Koenma, it's me, Jorge! Your very loyal assistant ogre! Remember me?" the large, muscular blue oni revealed as he put down the roped-together stacks of paper he wore as a backpack.

"..."

The infant prince promptly brained the errant ogre with a heavy, blunt object; namely, the table.

"What's the idea, wearing all those stupid stacks of paper like that?" Hearing profuse apologies from the blond ogre, Koenma waved him off. "Well, is there anything you would like to share THAT WON'T MAKE ME QUESTION MY SANITY?"

The oni clutched his head in pain and fear. "Well, I'm not so sure about that." The oni cringed underneath the Spirit World Prince's glare.

"Um, as you can see, the amount of paperwork did increase tenfold since that little stunt we pulled in the Great Ancient Library; lots of red tape on that; I think Lord Enma won't be pleased if he ever finds out."

"If he ever finds out," Koenma reminded his blue-skinned assistant as he let out a sigh of exasperation.

The celestial prince shifted in his seat-a curious thing for him to do, considering that the chair was made of the most comfortable material available in the Spirit World. "Officially, we're conducting an investigation on a 'potentially dangerous force that could pose a threat to the entire populace of the Human World.' While we have that valid 'intent and purpose,' we can still continue with the investigation, Lord Enma or no Lord Enma."

"That sounds pretty bold, Lord Koenma. But what is our intent 'unofficially'?" Jorge Saotome curiously inquired.

"To find out the intent and purpose of Enma Daio in creating that... thing... Munashii, as Yusuke calls him," Koenma disclosed, waving his hand dismissively.

"As well as trying to save a youko's life; isn't that right, Koenma-sama?" the oni hopefully added.

"Unofficially," Koenma nodded, smiling-or what passed as a smile, given that his pacifier was stuck to his mouth and all. "Well anyway, oddly enough, we haven't heard from Munashii for a month."

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

"Quite frankly, I don't know. It's good that he's been gone for a while, since it gave Yusuke and the others enough time to recuperate from his last attack, but from the files that we've gathered about him so far, none can logically explain why he does what he does."

Jorge nodded in agreement. "For all we know, he could be severing the gates separating the Human and Demon World and then creating utter havoc before revealing that his true purpose is to die in the hands of another demon."

The sound of skull-crashing-on-wood could be heard far across the large hall leading to a certain administrative office. "STOP MAKING STUPID JOKES, JORGE! We have a situation here!"

As the blue oni resumed apologizing profusely to his beloved employer, Koenma considered his options. 'Further investigation seems almost out of the question. I'm already in deep enough trouble as it is, so the rest is really up to Yusuke and the others.'

Koenma narrowed his eyes. 'Or rather, the rest is all up to Kurama.'

* * *

"Atsuko-san!" Keiko Yukimura chirpily greeted Yusuke's mother in her usual morning visit at the Urameshi residence. "How are you?"

Atsuko Urameshi did a nod of recognition at Keiko and waved. "Hello, Keiko-chan. Come on in, it's cold in the mornings." The middle-aged woman crossed her arms for warmth to demonstrate her point before she ushered the fourteen-year-old girl into her humble abode.

As the two women entered the apartment, two ready cups of hot coffee greeted them while they approached a familiar dining room. A routine exchange started between them as soon as the two cups left the wooden countertop, leaving two old, off-color circular imprints.

A silent, nearly instinctive countdown went between them before they shouted their proverbial morning mantra in unison.

"Yusuke, you JERK!"

Heaving two unanimous sighs as their gazes met, they couldn't help but fall victim to a fit of giggles afterward.

"My, my; this has been rather... therapeutic," Atsuko confessed, chuckling a bit while wiping the tears that had formed in her eyes. "Thank you for coming here almost everyday, Keiko-chan. I can honestly say that your visits had been quite enjoyable."

"Think nothing of it, Atsuko-san. It was my pleasure, actually," the teenager replied. Her gaze then became pensive. She was about to say something, but then thought the better of it.

In time, short, idle chitchat took reign as the two women engaged in a conversation of mostly desultory topics to while the remaining hours before Keiko's school time; topics that seemed to somehow fall back into a common theme.

"How's school?" Atsuko queried.

"It's okay, I guess," Keiko nonchalantly shrugged. "Soon enough, I'll be entering High School. I'm about to graduate from Junior High soon."

"That's so nice. And I bet you'll graduate with full honors to boot since you're at the top of your class," Atsuko said as Keiko beamed. "My, I wish my idiot son would attend more of his classes. Education is very expensive nowadays."

Keiko's smile looked a bit crooked as she sweatdropped at Atsuko's statements. It curved even more so as the Urameshi matriarch began to evaluate certain sensitive topics-like Yusuke being 'a lucky son of a gun,' for him to be practically engaged to an, 'intelligent, well-bred girl who was obviously going to be the breadwinner of the family, knowing that no good lout'. "Say, I do hope that your recent early morning visits haven't actually affected your studies in any-"

Keiko breathed a sigh of relief at the change of topic. "Oh no, no, no! It hasn't been any trouble at all! Like I said, it's been my pleasure to check on you from time to time, Atsuko-san!

Atsuko raised an eyebrow suspiciously as a sly smile formed on her lips while sipping her tea. "And they're very regular too, these oh-so-frequent visits."

Keiko blushed as she groaned at Atsuko's presumptuous assessment of the situation. "Atsuko-san! Why should I be worried about that insensitive jerk? He probably went off on some dangerous mission without even telling his own mother about it! How could I be considerate to such an inconsiderate jerk?"

"Of course, dear; I didn't say anything, though."

"Atsuko-san! You're making fun of me again!" Keiko pouted at Yusuke's mother, her features containing a combination of embarrassment and discomfort.

Atsuko let out a good-natured laugh. "Well, it's because you're so cute when you get so angry over silly things. I want my son to have a cute girlfriend, which, of course, will eventually develop into a beautiful wife, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, it's easier to handle all my worries when I can share them with someone else."

A couple of beeps that sounded off far too soon for both parties signaled the end of the discourse. Keiko gave Atsuko a look of dismay as the young girl turned off the alarm on her digital watch.

"It's time to go, At..." Keiko trailed off in mid-sentence as she was enveloped by the warmth of the older woman's embrace.

"My idiot son better not die again."

Keiko went into another laughing fit. "Atsuko-san, Yusuke's too stupid to die again and again... I guess. Whatever." She giggled some more at the thought.

"That's right! That's my son; Yusuke, the perennial idiot!" There was a slight pause before the two females shared a heartfelt laugh at their private joke.

* * *

Yusuke sneezed mightily.

"WHAT THE HELL? Hey, granny! There're too many dust mites around this filthy ol' place!" Yusuke then looked contemplative as he rubbed his nose. "Dammit, somebody must be talking shit about me!"

Genkai raised her left eyebrow in distaste as she looked at her cup of tea. She then proceeded to throw the ceramic, along with all of its contents, directly at the errant Urameshi.

"Cover your mouth when you sneeze! Idiot!"

"HEY! Get off my case, will ya!" Yusuke reflexively winced as he rubbed his forehead. "'Idiot?' Now why does that insult sound so familiar?" He sneezed again.

* * *

"Oh Enma-sama, it's hot," Botan muttered to herself as the scorching hot sun literally baked her. It was all the sun's fault-cooking her like a hot, wet potato while she was merely trying to do her job. It was just so unfair for a beautiful, talented, so-deserving-of-something-better ferry-girl such as herself.

The blue-haired girl adjusted her sunglasses while fixing the collar of her oversized trench coat... trying to remain as inconspicuous as only a albino-looking girl wearing shades and large, thick clothing in a pathetic attempt to disguise herself could. 'Stupid job. Stupid message. Stupid sun.'

"Now all I have to do is find Yusuke and the others, get their undivided attention and straightforwardly tell them what's going on." The irritated ferry girl picked off various gross clingy white stuff from her shoulder while still remaining 'low-key' from her place under the bushes. It wasn't easy.

"Yup. The whole mission is simple, straightforward and crystal clear."

"Botan-san?"

"Anytime now, the mission will be over."

"Uh, Botan-san... are you..?"

"Everything will be-"

"...Okay?"

"Yup, exactly."

There was a brief pause.

"GA-H! It's not my fault! It was all Lord Koenma's fault! It was his own discomfort and obliviousness that made it nearly impossible to contact any of you for the life of us! WA-H! Please don't hurt me! Don't kill the messenger! I really have no-"

An audible slap resounded from the enclosed space of the yard. Botan blinked once, and then twice. By the third time, her brain finally registered what was happening.

"K-Keiko-chan?"

"Botan-san! I'm so sorry!" Keiko apologized profusely as she held her trembling right hand. "But you were babbling incoherently and I was so scared, I didn't know what else to do!" Keiko blinked. "Uh, Botan-san, what the heck _ are_ you doing here?"

"Uh... well... Ahehehehehe..." Botan elaborated.

"I don't suppose that there are some possessed, manic city folk wreaking havoc all over the entire city again, right?" Keiko hypothesized to herself, unconsciously invading Botan's personal space as she began to close in on the increasingly discomfited Angel of Death.

"Oh! No, no, no, no! None of that! They're just being chased by a soul-sucker this time!" Botan hastily answered Keiko's unwitting assessment, desperately trying to put a comfortable distance between her and the irate young girl. She afterwards put her hands on her mouth and let out a small "Eep!" once she realized what she just said.

"This time...?"

Botan winced at the rant that never came. "Uh, Keiko-chan?" The ferry-girl was taken aback when the smaller yet seemingly more assertive female grabbed her by the shoulders and held her back at arm's length.

"Botan-san, if you have any idea what Yusuke and the others are up to this time, please. tell me. I've got to know."

Try as the ferry-girl might, she just couldn't look away from Keiko's pleading, puppy dog eyes. "Well, it's a bit complicated. I swear to Lord Enma that I'll be there to tell them about some important bits of info concerning the mission, but... Ahehehe!" Botan sheepishly grinned as she struggled to straighten herself up, nearly slipping on her own heavy trench coat.

"There? Where is 'there'? Where are they? Do you know?" Keiko inquired excitedly.

"Oh, they're just at Genkai-shihan's place all this time. I was just on my way there. Really, I was!" Botan insisted defensively. She then brightened like a halogen lamp as she had an idea; despite being an awfully obvious and unparticular idea, it was an idea nonetheless. "I know! Why don't you come with me?"

"What? But Botan-san, I have to go school!" Keiko protested, surprised by the abruptness of Botan's impulsive proposal.

"Oh, that never stopped us before! Come on, Keiko-chan! It'll be fun!" Botan twittered, grabbing hold of the petite girl's hand before any more complaints were aired. 'Not to mention goddarned convenient for me,' she added to herself.

Keiko helplessly let the Spirit World Messenger drag her towards an ad hoc destination, a small smile creeping on the edges of her lips as she finally caught up with the ferry girl's excited pace, both hand-in-hand in running through a familiar route to a nearby train station.

* * *

"Shizuru-san, the hot water is ready!" Yukina called out as she poured half of the contents of the kettle into a bowl of medicinal herbal soup.

"Okay, just bring the fresh rolls of bandages and the bottle of antiseptic to the room, and I'll take care of the rest," the tall, twenty-something brown-haired girl instructed as she motioned towards a tray filled with various first aid equipment.

"You already know how to mix the herbs, Shizuru-san?" Yukina asked as she crushed into a red powder what seemed to be unusually large chestnuts.

"Yeah, Kurama already briefed me on the stuff. I can always ask him if I forget. He's just nearby the dojo anyway, so no need to worry." Shizuru wiped the sweat that formed on her brow. "I'll manage just fine."

"I'll go get the towels in the closet first."

"Sheesh, you'd think that idiot would know how to bathe himself by now. What a wimp," Shizuru muttered under her breath.

"Um, Shizuru-san?" Yukina shyly queried as she neatly folded several towels unto the side of the tray.

"Yes, Yukina-chan?"

"You think he's going to be all right? I mean, Kazuma-san hasn't come out of his room ever since-"

Shizuru waved her hand dismissively. "He's practically an adult now, Yukina-chan. In most parts of Japan, he should already be of legal age! He should be responsible for himself and learn to deal with things as only an adult should. If he's half the man he claims to be, then he should get over this by now."

"But what if...?" Yukina worriedly persisted.

"He'll be fine. Trust me. I know these things," the taller, older woman gave a forlorn look across the hall towards a certain room. She sighed as she grabbed hold of the bowl with the blood-colored herbal mixture. "Now then, let me bathe my wimpy baby brother."

Both the two women stopped their discourse as they suddenly heard voices from the patio; familiar, female voices.

"Oh my! It seems that we have visitors!" Yukina announced as she moved to peek outside.

"I think I may have an idea on who just arrived." Shizuru smirked as she went after the shorter, blue-haired girl. "It's about time."

* * *

"GA-H! It's not my fault! It was all Lord Koenma's fault! It was his own discomfort and obliviousness that made it nearly impossible to contact any of you for the life of us! WA-H! Please don't hurt me! Don't kill the messenger! I really have no idea; I mean, he just _sent_ me out here, for goodness sake!"

Keiko merely sweatdropped, her eyes half-lidded in vexation as Botan continued to prattle. She idly wondered if the ferry-girl had the whole thing memorized just for this particular instance.

"Don't worry about a thing, Botan. Nobody is blaming you. The whole event was unexpected and we don't hold the Spirit World-nor you-solely responsible," Genkai assured as she tried to console the distressed ferry-girl. "We just want to talk. Wait inside the house while I call Kurama."

"Where are Kurama-san and the others, Grandma Genkai?" Keiko asked in a seemingly idle manner, her intonation varying slightly in the end.

Genkai smiled. "Yusuke's not here. He went up the old training ground marsh to heal his imbalanced reiki and collect his thoughts."

"I don't care where that moron is!" Keiko yelped defensively while Botan held back a giggle. "What about Kurama-san? Kuwabara-kun-he's here, isn't he?"

"Oh, Kurama's helping me fix the dusty old dojo out back and Kuwabara is resting as well." Genkai had a poignant look on her wrinkled face that worried the two girls. "Well, well... Come! Into the house, you two!"

As Genkai ushered the two females into her abode before altogether leaving for the dojo, Botan and Keiko were greeted by two recognizable, friendly faces.

"Oh, hello Keiko-san, Botan-san."

"Hey. What's up, you guys?"

"Oh, Yukina-chan! Hello!" Keiko slightly paused in mid-step. "Shizuru-san? Hello! This is a surprise. Since when did you get here?"

"Oh, about two weeks ago. Y'see, when I last checked, it seemed that my little brother hurt himself again, so it's his big sister's duty to take care of him." Shizuru smiled brightly while Yukina solemnly gazed down on the ground.

Keiko was a bit concerned by Shizuru's answer, but she let go of the subject for the time being. 'Kuwabara-kun's hurt? I hope it's nothing serious! But what about Yusuke? Genkai-baasan said he's okay, but... I can't help but worry.' "Well then... shall we?"

"Wheeee! The whole gang is here! This is just sooo great!" Botan merrily cheered as she giddily followed the rest of the young women into Genkai's house.

* * *

"Hey! Granny! Open up! I wanna know where my brother is! It's been two weeks since he came home and his final exams are coming up! I think it's all fine and dandy for him to save the Human World from time to time, but he still needs his education!" Shizuru yelled from outside the temple's patio, not minding the fact that it was nearly midnight and everyone was probably asleep.

A sister had a degree of accountability over her brother, after all. Chaperoning him on an uncharted island to fight various ghouls and demons? Sure; just as long as he didn't die on her or anything. Looking out for him when he stupidly let himself get kidnapped by a crazed former Spirit Detective? It was the least she could do. Hounding him night after night about his responsibilities in school after he finally decided to stay at home? That was a given.

"Hey! Sorry to bother you and all, but you have to understand-I'm dead tired after having to go through a two-hour long train trip coming from a nine-hour workload, so if I sound more than a little pissed, I probably am."

"Shizuru-san?"

Shizuru balked at the petite figure in front of her. It was Yukina. It was typical of the old woman to send her out now-probably to calm her down or something-but she had to get straight to the point anyway. "Hey, Yukina-chan. Do you have any idea where my idiot brother is? It's been two weeks and I've gotten no word from him."

Yukina shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her face red in embarrassment of... Kami-sama-knew-what.

Shizuru idly wondered if her brother had more gumption than she gave him credit for, finally getting it on with-but she just as quickly dismissed the idea. She hadn't the time for this nonsense. "Yukina-chan, I have to...!"

Shizuru was slightly taken aback by the sorrow in Yukina's eyes as the young koorime gazed back at the elder Kuwabara. The taller woman's heart began palpitating rapidly, but she forcedly contained herself, her cool demeanor not giving any hint of her rising panic. "Yes?"

"Kazuma-san's... hurt. Badly. It's good that you came. H-he needs you."

"What do you mean by...?"

Shizuru was silenced as the ice maiden gently took hold of her hand, ushering her into the residence. The light-brown haired girl braced herself as she felt her throat dry in dread.

'What happened to you now, you dummy?'

* * *

"After seeing what I saw, _that_ was when Granma Genkai came in and gave me the head trip she called news. It was like after being tripped, they added injury to injury by bashing my head with a rock. It was a real bombshell, that." Shizuru held a cigarette stick by her mouth while fiddling with the lighter. "Do you mind?"

"Ah. No. Not at all," Keiko assured, her hands held up in surrender. She was really impressed with how Shizuru was dealing with the whole situation. She herself had yet to digest the most dreadful bits of information, much less handle it.

Keiko gazed at Shizuru. The older female had a contemplative look on her face as she took in deep puffs from her lighted cigarette. The whole situation was much too surreal; like when Yusuke first died. The younger female bit her lip in pensiveness, wondering how Yusuke was dealing with his own trauma as well.

"It's good that Kuwabara wasn't horribly hurt and that the Munashii guy wasn't able to get Kurama's soul. It's a huge relief for us." Botan heaved a sigh to demonstrate her point, wiping the sweat off of her forehead. She really hated having to 'walk on eggshells', but with circumstances as sensitive as this, what else could she do?

"We're all quite glad you got such a 'huge relief' over that, but I have to ask: Where was the Spirit World when that monster used my brother as his own personal puppet?" Shizuru suddenly demanded none-too-gently, startling Botan.

'Of course she's still upset over Kuwabara-kun!' Keiko thought, her eyes full of sympathy as she stared at the frustrated Shizuru Kuwabara.

Botan quickly averted her eyes from Shizuru. She was at a loss for words. She could literally feel the intensity of the glare the elder Kuwabara directed at her. Finally, she replied, "The Spirit World is... Lord Koenma is... I... I'm sorry for what happened, Shizuru-san. Maybe if I had known, then maybe I could have done something. I feel so ashamed, not being able to do anything as I just stood there and watched the monitor helplessly like the little coward that I am." Botan stopped her pitiful rant as soon as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry too... for snapping at you like that. I was just being a jerk, trying to find somebody to blame. I don't blame you at all, Botan-chan," Shizuru amended as she flashed an apologetic smile. "I'm sure everyone back there in the Spirit World is doing what they could, given the situation."

"That's right, Botan-san! Cheer up! As Genkai-baasan said, nobody's blaming you for the incident," Keiko reassured as she gave the ferry-girl's hand an encouraging squeeze.

"You're all too kind! WA-H!" Botan tearfully cried amidst the collective sweatdrops of her companions.

"Shizuru-san, I'm going to take the hot water to Kazuma-san now," Yukina reminded after emerging from Kuwabara's temporary lodgings as she made her way towards the kitchen, interrupting the three girls' intimate moment.

"Oh, okay-Now wait just a goddarned moment!" Shizuru did a spit-take, surprising her companions. "You are NOT going to bathe my little brother!"

"Oh. But why is that, Shizuru-san?" Yukina tilted her head in confusion.

"Well, that's because even though he's injured and traumatized, my brother is still a pervert! I will not condone _that_ sort of 'cheering up,' no matter what you may say to the contrary!" Shizuru concluded, incensed.

"Uh-huh! Your little 'Kazuma-san' is, in fact, a pervert! I swear, he was probably having a couple of perverted dreams about me before he met you. I can't really blame him, though. Anyway, having you give him a sponge bath is just a wee bit... y'know," Botan compounded.

"I feel sorry for what happened to Kuwabara-kun and all, but there are things boys and girls shouldn't do together until they are at a right age, Yukina-chan," Keiko reluctantly agreed.

"Oh, all right. If everybody feels that way-I don't quite understand why, but okay." Yukina relinquished her hold of the kettle. "I hope he cheers up soon. I want to see him back to his old, silly self."

"As long as he sees you safe and sound, I'm sure he'll be all right," Shizuru guaranteed as she took hold of the kettle in a firm grip. It was also part of an older sister's duty to look after a brother's responsibilities when the little dummy couldn't attend to them. "See you, girls."

After Shizuru left and closed the door to Kazuma Kuwabara's quarters, Yukina heaved a melancholic sigh at one last nagging thought. 'I hope the _both_ of them are all right.'

* * *

"Hiei-san?"

The jaganshi hybrid was startled by the seemingly innocent query. He winced in pain when he turned around towards the origin of the gentle voice a bit too fast for comfort.

"Hiei-san, you're badly hurt! You better come back into the house. It's... cold."

The fire demon would've huffed in reply at the silliness of the koorime's request had he not deemed it a rude answer to give to her. "I'm a fire demon. The cold means nothing to me if I can help it."

"I'm sorry! Genkai-baasan keeps telling me that too, by mistake. I've rather grown accustomed to it. It's sort of funny, really, b-but still! You better come in anyway! You shouldn't be straining yourself like this, because your injuries are still fresh! You may be a powerful youkai, but even youkai have their limits," Yukina insisted, nearly pleaded.

"Why do you care?" Hiei suddenly asked, surprising even himself by the brashness of his question. His ruby eyes darted back and forth as he half-expected, half-dreaded the reply. He was about to cut her off with a rushed apology of sorts when he saw the gentle look she gave him, the words dying in his lips.

There was the slightest of pauses before Yukina spoke. "Of course I care! You cared enough when you rescued me from my forced captivity with the human, Tarukane. So I, in turn, care for you as well." Her ruby eyes reflected his own-identical in both appearance and the amount of worry found in them-sister's eyes to brother's eyes.

Hiei cursed himself for being so insensitive. He looked back at those large, red eyes and queried, "You trusted me with your life while you were in that filthy human's clutches, right? Unconditionally?"

Yukina nodded slowly. "Yes, I did."

Hiei nodded to her as well. "Then give me that same trust now. I'll be all right. I just have a score to settle."

"Y-you will be back, right?" Yukina asked as she worriedly stared at Hiei's hobbling stance.

He again looked her straight in the eyes, his demeanor determined, his gaze resolute. "Please trust me." He then disappeared-vanished without a trace, except for an unsaid promise and the unyielding trust of a loved one.

* * *

"So where's our favorite spiky-haired youkai?" Botan wondered aloud, looking around the entirety of the dwelling. "I'm sure we won't find him bunking around with Kuwabara-kun. So where is he?"

"He already left," Yukina whispered quietly, quickly adding, "It was only natural for him to go. He looked determined and strong enough to do so."

Botan sighed. "Yep, it's very typical of him to do that. I just wish he'd take care of himself more." She felt a nudge and saw the scolding look Keiko gave her as the shorter girl's eyes darted repeatedly towards her and the ice maiden. "Well! On the other hand-"

"I trust him."

"Uh, what was that again?" Botan queried, puzzled.

"He'll be all right. He's very strong and very brave. I trust him enough to know that he can take care of himself." Yukina smiled, her eyes filled with conviction.

"Er, I guess. Actually, tempestuous is a more appropriate word to describe him. Personally, I myself would've gone for 'reckless'." Botan felt another painful nudge at the ribs. "We should have confidence in Hiei's recklessness!"

Keiko shook her head as she heaved a heavy sigh of dismay while Yukina merely giggled at Botan's assessment. "I have confidence in Hiei-san's recklessness too, Botan-san."

* * *

"Botan."

It was a simple address-straightforward and modest, yet loud and clear. The addressee gulped as if it was Enma Daio himself who had addressed her. It was now or never. She braced herself as she meekly went to her death march towards the patio. Of course, she said all her good-byes to her loved ones first.

"Oh my. I think Botan-san's acting a bit scared, don't you think?" Yukina concernedly whispered to Keiko.

Keiko sighed in exasperation. "She's just being over-melodramatic, as usual." She averted her eyes from the bawling Botan while Kurama scratched the back of his head in smiling confusion and bemusement.

* * *

"We at the Spirit World are really, truly sorry for the delay. Lord Koenma extends his humblest of-"

Kurama waved off the apology in an unassuming manner. "I understand. There's nothing to apologize about. The Spirit World probably had as much of an idea of who Munashii was as we did. Though I'm glad you're here. It's about time you showed up. So you probably have some new information regarding our mutual friend?" the redhead evaluated as he affably addressed the blue-haired girl.

'Whoa. He's sharp! Though, of course, it shouldn't even come as a surprise, knowing him,' Botan thought as she composed herself. It took a couple of emotional breakdowns and constant reassurance, but now it looked like it was time to relay the super-duper important message sent by Lord Koenma himself; the main reason why she came to the Human World.

"You're quite right, Kurama-san. It took us sometime to get through all the Spirit World red tape, but I think we finally nailed him."

Kurama nodded thoughtfully as he dusted off the excess plaster from his shirt. He wiped the sweat off of his eyebrows and asked, "What did you find out?"

"Well, this 'Munashii' you've been fighting is actually a human, just as Genkai-baasan told you; a human by the name of Tetsuma Yoshitaka. From the information we've gathered, we discovered that he was not just any human; he was a Class-S human."

Kurama raised an eyebrow. "A Class-S human? During that time, did you hire him as a Spirit Detective, knowing that he was in the highest Spirit World Class Standing? You did the same with Sensui, and Yusuke was merely just above C-Level when you first employed him."

"Well, contrary to popular belief, the Spirit World _doesn't_ hire each and every Class-C+ or higher creature in the Human World as Spirit Detectives or whatever. Though, of course, we still kept a close eye on Tetsuma."

Kurama considered the new piece of information carefully. "So certainly the Spirit World was very interested in this Tetsuma person."

Botan cleared her throat as she continued. "He had quite the reputation in the Spirit World. I heard about him during my early years as a Spirit World ferry-girl. Apparently, it wasn't just shinigami who handled lost spirits from the Human and Demon World."

Kurama's eyes widened in realization. "You mean...?"

Botan nodded earnestly. "Lord Enma wanted Tetsuma Yoshitaka, not as a Class-S Spirit Detective, nor as a ferry of various souls, but as something else. He was his own personal slave."

Kurama paused for a full minute of contemplation before speaking in deliberate slowness, trepidation apparent in his voice. "Botan, what really happened that day the girl Matsui Asuka offered herself to Tetsuma Yoshitaka?"

* * *

"What now?"

Yusuke Urameshi had to admit that the statement wasn't exactly conducive to further consideration and analysis of his current condition; which was why, needless to say, he viewed the testimony as the most suitable evaluation of the whole state of affairs.

Yusuke blinked. "Man, I _have_ been hanging around Kurama for too long."

In short, it was the Urameshi 'call-a-spade-a-spade' school of thought. He had no idea what the hell just happened a month ago, or what the hell was he supposed to do afterwards. It was a helluva mess, and he had no idea how to clean it up.

To put it simply, he was pissed off. He was very angry and confused, and that just pissed him off even more. He sighed. That explanation, in its utter simplicity, made the most sense in his mind.

The sleek-haired youth checked his pulse. Yup, it seemed normal. It had been a month since he last encountered Munashii. On second thought, he did find the name quite ridiculous. It seemed such a cool designation at the time but now... Yuck. Still, even with a stupid name like 'Munashii,' he sure did kick a lot of ass. The shadow man definitely kicked Yusuke's ass, which acted as more fodder for his 'pissed off' line of thought.

The teenage Spirit Detective had been subjected to a unique condition of reiki imbalance; a direct result of his fight with Munashii.

The thought of that thing getting a crush on Kurama sent chills all over Yusuke's body-right down to his spine, even-but he had to cut short that line of thought as well, lest he lost the intended purpose of his contemplation: getting over the fact that some gay ghost with a gothic shtick beat him up like a stray dog using, of all things, Kuwabara's body.

Yusuke hated reflecting over stuff. However, it was only when he tried to stand up did his priorities come crashing back to his person. His body shook in rage as he looked at his trembling fingers, marred with minor nicks and scratches from the tree stump that held him at bay from slipping entirely into the mushy ground.

"Dammit," Yusuke cursed silently. He was back to the 'pissed off' line of thought again.

Whatever sexual orientation or silly acquired pseudonyms Munashii had, the fact remained that the half-being took a lot out of Yusuke. Though perhaps the whole event took a lot more out of Kuwabara and Hiei, Yusuke wasn't spared of the consequences of defeat. It was not merely the humiliation of the loss that pissed him off. No, it was a lot more than that.

Yusuke shut his eyes in meditation, searching for his inner peace-his proverbial 'happy place' from where his ability to concentrate his reiki comes from. It was a special skill that Genkai personally (and painfully) trained him to do hundreds of times over until it was burned into his memory.

The haunted aura of the neighboring swamp-once a deadly war zone for innumerable battles-started to converge and swathe the Reikai Tantei's person. Before long, his brief bout of stupefying nausea settled down.

* * *

"Some may say you look like a girl and that you're not manly enough-that you're Mister Goody-two-shoes and stuff like that-but I know better. I think you're the best, sempai!" Shigeru Amano laughed heartily as he held his treasured possession; his precious poem for his beloved late grandfather.

"Because of the fact that you actually liked it, it has double the value now, Minamino-sempai." The boy slowly read and reread the carefully written script surreptitiously, admiring its composition and its content every time.

"Maybe I should become a poet. I'll ask sempai tomorrow! That is, if sempai will come to school tomorrow. Oh, grampa. Wherever you are, please make it so that Minamino-sempai makes it to school tomorrow. I miss him terribly." The little boy paused for a bit, pouting.

"I miss you too, grampa. You know that, don't you?" Before he finally folded the piece of paper and slipped it inside the pages of his diary, his eyes gazed for the briefest of moments at the last paragraph of his meticulously crafted opus.

_Or instead, you let yourself feel the pain...  
Of course it will come, sooner or later  
It's a wound, bleeding. Continuously.  
No word of comfort can appease it once it's there. _

"I miss him. I hope he comes back, grampa. I want to be strong just like him-cool, collected, and suave-so I won't become 'Shinko, the girly-boy' again. So people will finally take notice of me and respect me." Shigeru rested on his pillows, staring listlessly at his off-white ceiling.

"I feel so lonely, grampa. It sucks to be lonely. It always stays with you, like a disease or something-a disease people don't want to catch. Every time people try comfort you, it won't work 'coz you can practically feel their pity, so you feel crummier."

Shigeru clutched his pristine-white pillows as he sauntered off to slumber. He afterwards shuddered as he unconsciously felt a foreboding presence surround him. The presence smiled.

"Heaven and hell for you, Asuka-san. Heaven and hell."

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Shuichi Minamino's everyday life.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen _not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	6. Chapter 5: Outgrowth

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Chapter 5; it's ongoing. Oh my goddess.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Outgrowth**

* * *

'Granny said that this was only temporary and that all I need to do was go to this marsh from time to time to recu... recup... recover. I don't buy it, though; why the hell is it taking so long?' Yusuke Urameshi frustratingly deliberated as he relaxed inside the swamp where he and Randou fought once upon a time.

Yusuke closed his eyes in concentration as he struggled to find his center of calm from which his control over his spiritual power lay. This was an exercise Genkai taught to him. Painfully taught; hundreds of repetitions; she could be an irritating old gnarled gnome, at times.

In any case, the reiki of the surrounding marshes... once a battleground for countless wars... began to swirl around and envelop the Spirit Detective's body. Soon, his momentary lapse of disorientation subsided.

Genkai also mentioned that this situation was just an 'advanced version of what happened in the battle with Chu during the first rounds of the Black Martial Arts Tournament.' During Yusuke's said battle with the drunken fighter, his reiki was completely depleted. It came back only after a long while; in the middle of the next fight, even.

'But at least it didn't make me friggin' dizzy from time to time like a pregnant chick!' Yusuke sulked as he exasperatingly sat down once more while leaning against a rotting piece of wood.

Even at that point in time, Yusuke still didn't have enough control of his imbalanced reiki to do really cool stuff like blast things with his Rei-Gan. At least _that_ would have given him a measure of satisfaction over the whole situation.

'Dammit, I wasn't even able to do anything to help save Kurama, Hiei, and especially Kuwabara, from that goddamned Munashii. I just lay there, like a wet dishrag. Damn you, Munashii! Damm you!' Yusuke gritted his teeth in fury.

Yusuke turned his attention to the remnants of what used to be a tree. He balled up his fists as he forced himself to stand up, his knuckles turning white as his nails dug deep into the skin of his palm. He then focused his rage and wrath on the helpless tree stump, breaking and snapping up the rotting wood like so many empty stacks of matchboxes with his furious flurry of punches.

An equally enraged Genkai promptly brained him for all his efforts. "Are you an idiot? Do you really _have_ to destroy everything in your path? Have you no consideration for the beauty of your surroundings before you unwittingly ruin it? Are you a some sort of living plague to nature?" Genkai admonished sternly.

Yusuke rubbed his head as he glared back at the Master of the oh-so-powerful Spirit Light Wave Technique. It was a stupid, half-rotted tree stump, for Enma's sake. 'I could kick your wrinkled old butt anytime, granny.'

"Humph. Try me, then."

Yusuke was taken aback by his former master's statement. She could read minds? Sometimes that old woman just scared the crap out of him. "Whaddya want, granny? Can't you see that I'm having some time alone with myself?"

"I don't think even _you_ can stand yourself. I just can't see it happening," Genkai quipped offhandedly while Yusuke continued to fume. "Anyway, I just came here to inform you that Botan had just arrived and is now speaking to Kurama about things of interest."

"Really? It's about time!" Yusuke did a pinching motion with his fingers. "I was _this_ close to deciding to go to the Spirit World and settling things with that pacifier-sucking brat myself."

"I'm not surprised." Genkai smirked. "You're really not that unpredictable once people figure out that the reason no one can read your mind is because you usually don't use it in the first place."

"Shut up, you old bag!" Yusuke retorted irksomely. "So, did you catch any interesting news from Botan? Maybe she has some info on how to finally beat that stuck-up Munashii?"

Genkai chuckled at the youth. "It would seem you have quite the grudge against the soulless one?"

"Hell yeah! Nobody beats up Urameshi Yusuke like a human punching bag using, of all things, Kuwabara's body! I won't stand for it!" Yusuke reduced a nearby hollowed and barren tree into toothpicks, neither minding Genkai's presence nor whatever consequence she could deliver upon his person.

Genkai snorted derisively at Yusuke's declaration. "Then you've already lost, fool."

"What the hell does that supposed to mean?"

Genkai shook her head. "You couldn't take it, being beaten by this Munashii. From your limited experience, you always _have_ to win every battle you fight. Or, if and when you lose, you just _have_ to stand up again to fight once more-to the very last drop of your blood, even. There was just too much at stake at the time for you to lose. You couldn't afford losing."

Yusuke thought for all of three seconds. "Your point being...?"

Genkai looked straight into Yusuke's eyes, the latter suddenly standing upright in attention.

"You didn't win the fight because it wasn't your fight in the first place. Munashii is not your demon to overcome; he's Kurama's demon. I assure you that no great power from even a Class-S youkai would be able to help him there. If you really want to win this case, leave Kurama to mind his own demons."

Yusuke was uncharacteristically silent for a few moments before he replied, "So whaddya think should I do, granny? Should I just stand back and stay away from the problem or something?"

"I said no such thing. Do understand that Kurama will need you... us... ore than ever. He'll need everybody's help. But this is still his fight. You can't always play the hero's role, Yusuke. We're all responsible for ourselves."

There was another atypical pause from Yusuke. "I guess I'll help out as much as I can. But I swear to you, granny; when I meet Munashii again, it'll be payback time for Kurama, Hiei, Kuwabara... and me, especially."

"Heh. That, I'm very certain of, boy," Genkai acknowledged.

"Just let him come. As soon as we finally get to the bottom of this, it'll all be over," Yusuke huffed in his full bravado.

"Just because the Spirit World has finally come up with some answers to the puzzle doesn't necessarily mean that we finally have the ultimate solution to the dilemma. Such confidence is folly," Genkai berated the obnoxious young lad.

"Huh. Urameshi Yusuke fears nothing... GA-H!"

"YUSUKE!"

Yusuke reflexively did an immediate backpedal towards the remains of the nearby ravaged tree stump. He now wished that he wasn't so hasty at laying waste such a precious stub, because its absence afforded one very irritated Keiko Yukimura a plain view of him. Not that he was afraid of her or anything. Nope, not at all. He was just startled by her sudden appearance.

"Urameshi Yusuke fears nothing, huh? Aren't you just full of yourself? You jackass!"

"Ow! Owowowowowow! Leggo of my ear, Keiko!" Yusuke heroically countered. "Where the hell did you come from, you stupid girl?"

"You're the one who's stupid, stupid! I was so worried, and that's all you can say for yourself? Not a word from you for a month and now you act like a complete jerk!" Keiko exclaimed, her eyes moist.

"H-Hey! Don't cry!" Yusuke was quite a sight to behold as he panicked at the sight of a tearful Keiko while Genkai just shook her head in dismay. "H-Hold on! Is there something wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong," Keiko quietly denied as she slowly turned her back on the errant Spirit Detective-which flustered Yusuke all the more. She then started to leave.

"Hey, Keiko! Wait up!" Yusuke pleaded in puzzlement. If nothing was wrong, then why was she acting so weird? It didn't make any sense to him at all. "It's not like I have to report to you every time something major happens in my life! I don't even do that for Koenma!"

Keiko stared back at Yusuke, holding the sleek-haired youth at bay with her fiery eyes and angry pout. She closed her eyes and sighed loudly. "Fine."

Yusuke just stared, dumbfounded, at Keiko's retreating figure a good distance away. He turned to Genkai in askance. "Fine? FINE? What the hell did she mean by FINE? She certainly didn't look 'fine'!"

Genkai heaved a near facsimile of Keiko's own sigh. "You really have no idea, do you? You go figure things out for a while longer here in the marsh. Get your priorities straight."

Yusuke snorted derisively at the statement. "I'd rather go Munashii-hunting like Hiei, but it looks like I have nothing better to do." He scowled as he stared at the direction Keiko went. 'Humph. Women.'

* * *

"What really happened the day the girl Matsui Asuka offered herself to Tetsuma Yoshitaka?" Kurama asked earnestly, getting right to the point. The gap... perhaps even the connection... between Yoshitaka Tetsuma, the miracle boy prodigy and Munashii, the living dead, could only be explained by an accurate account of the events that transpired that fateful day.

Botan looked sheepishly at the kitsune; it was an apologetic look, to be sure. "I'm really sorry, Kurama-san, but those particular classified files are the very ones Lord Koenma wasn't able to 'de-classify.' Ever since the 'Black Chapter' crisis, all files with similarly sensitive information were much harder to come by. We really tried our best, but it seems only Lord Enma himself has access those files."

Kurama frowned. It took a month for Koenma and his staff to uncover little tidbits of information on the disreputable Munashii, yet all they got for their trouble were mere portions and partitions of the fact, but never the whole truth.

"What do you _actually_ know about Munashii, Botan?" Kurama yielded, having no choice in the matter.

"I'm glad you asked!" Botan exclaimed merrily. "Tetsuma Yoshitaka had shattered his soul. That in itself was an incredible feat that mightily impressed the Great Lord Enma. So impressed was he that he actually considered Tetsuma employment in our fine institution."

Kurama's eyes went wide with wonder as Botan started her presentation using spectacles with swirls on the lenses, a fake nose and mustache and, strangely enough, _Kabuki_, from what he could make out of it.

"I, Enma Daio, am very pleased with your capabilities. I can make great use of you and your unique condition," Botan said in a fake baritone. She then took off the 'mustached' glasses and deadpanned her voice. "There's nothing left for me in this cruel world. I, Tetsuma Yoshitaka, offer myself to you, Enma Daio. I am your tool, your own personal marionette."

'I see. Enma Daio himself asked Tetsuma to be in his service, and Tetsuma accepted. Could it have been a self-inflicted punishment for whatever happened that fateful day his soul was shattered?' Kurama considered. He stopped his deliberations cold when Botan, again wearing the silly-looking eyeglasses, began laughing hysterically.

"OHOHOHOHOHO! Is that so? Well then. I have some pesky souls in mind that I want you to get rid of. You will become my special ferry-boy. No tight fitting kimono and long oars for you, though." Seeing that she had Kurama's rapt and undivided attention, Botan continued in a grimmer, less cheesy tone.

"I want you to become the deliverer of nihility over souls that are so damned that they don't even deserve Hell. That is your duty-to deliver emptiness to those far beyond damned."

Kurama nodded thoughtfully. So the Spirit World was more or less partly responsible for the creation of the being they now knew as Munashii. "That was very informative, Botan. Thank you."

"Really? I thought so too! OHOHOHOHOHOHO!" Botan laughed maniacally, forgetting that she was still wearing the glasses with the fake nose and mustache. It made for a pretty disturbing sight.

Coughing once, Kurama meditated heavily on the most recent information. "So Tetsuma Yoshitaka voluntarily surrendered himself to Enma Daio's hands as a tool of some sort?"

"Correct," Botan confirmed in an unnatural baritone, adopting a grim demeanor. "Tetsuma was my puppet."

Kurama further inquired, "What sort of puppet?" He then gestured towards Botan's face discreetly.

"Well, from what I remember, Enma Daio turned Tetsuma into his slave," Botan thoughtfully answered, pensively scratching her mustache. "As Munashii, he was tasked to destroy those really evil spirits. Y'know, the ones that we can't afford to reincarnate but are too stubborn to pass on-What is it, Kurama? Is there something on my face?"

Kurama sighed as he waved off Botan's question. "So since he can destroy the immortal soul, Enma Daio used him for the purpose of exterminating spirits," he supposed, adding, "Probably to make the Spirit World more 'efficient'."

"Methinks you got it right for the most part, sorry to say." Botan laughed half-heartedly at that.

Kurama seriously pondered the recent news. There were still too many things left to be considered, too many pieces of the puzzle still missing. The pieces that he did have didn't quite fit well together.

He needed the missing, chief piece; one that would connect all the pieces of the puzzle together, so that things would finally make sense at last-or at least one correct piece that could put him in the right direction.

"Hey, Kurama? You okay, you hot piece of bishonen...?" Botan started, quickly halting her sentence near the end as the kitsune stared at her in an odd manner. "I guess you're all right then," she delightfully evaluated.

"Uh... yes. Thank you," Kurama confirmed warily, sweatdropping.

"All right! Mission accomplished!" Botan gaily proclaimed, waving a 'V' sign with her two fingers. "Well, anyway, we'll just keep you posted for any future developments. Remember, we're keeping a 'don't call us, we'll call you' policy. Yay! This was easier than I expected." Botan giggled as she congratulated herself for a job well done. She then began her elated descent from the mountaintop temple.

Kurama perspired large beads of chagrined sweat again, blinking-twice this had happened today, and Yusuke was nowhere in sight. He was impressed with Botan's skills to amaze and stupefy. He waved good-bye to the silly ferry-girl. "I'll just tell Yusuke the news whenever."

Botan stopped in mid-skip and considered the youko's words. "Hmmm. Yeah. I suppose you can do that." Nodding to herself, she resumed her perky skip. Realization struck her by the time she reached her sixth skip.

"Omigosh Yusuke where is he Kurama where is Yusuke?" Botan babbled in one breath.

"Uh, why do you ask?" Kurama asked the excitable ferry-girl.

"I didn't tell you? You didn't know? You didn't tell me? I didn't know? I mean, Yusuke is now officially in a mission to track down Munashii!"

"A _mission_, eh?" a voice behind Botan echoed. A chill formed at the back of the ferry-girl's neck, making her shiver.

"Ah! He-hello, Keiko-chan! Where've you been up to? I mean, what have you been? I mean... Oooh, headache!" Botan blabbered as she pointedly avoided facing Keiko's way-because the situation was kind of like Feng Shuei, really. If one faced the wrong direction, he or she would have to deal with really bad karma.

"I've been around," Keiko replied. She politely greeted, "Hello, Kurama-san, Botan-san," before making her way back into Genkai's temple. Kurama hesitantly waved hello before he was answered back by the audible shutting of the sliding doors.

Before either Kurama or Botan could recover from the incident, they were startled by a loud, "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM, KEIKO?" a good two yards away, further adding to their confusion.

Yusuke grudgingly trudged forward, the very personification of chaos and confusion, followed by a contrastingly serene Genkai at a more sedate pace.

Botan and Kurama quietly watched in rapt attention of the spectacular drama unfolding before them. It was quite a sight to behold indeed. No wonder-since Yusuke Urameshi was the star of the show, it was sure to be quite... something. They eyed Yusuke's performance carefully: all of his intricate gestures, his uncanny bravado, his gift of gab-

An uninterrupted string of cussing and swear words escaped Yusuke's lips before he finally demanded, "You know I'm going to stick with you like stink on crap anyway, so you should just save us both the trouble and tell me what the hell is wrong?"

"Uh... Yusuke, um..." Kurama ventured in an attempt to get Yusuke's attention; all five seconds of it, if he was lucky. "Yusuke, we're finally on an official mission to hunt down Munashii, just like you wanted."

"Hmmm? Okay," was what Yusuke had to say about it. Now Kurama was truly shocked. Yusuke continued his discourse with the two sliding doors, mumbling to himself, "Is she going to just rage around the whole day? What the heck is she doing here in the first place? Dammit. Whine, whine, whine! Whining for no apparent reason; that's all she ever does!"

"It looks as if there's nothing more we could do. He's in his own world now." Botan shrugged as she scratched her mustache in defeat. She then materialized her paddle and promptly beat the crap out of Yusuke.

Yusuke was finally released from his stupor as he looked at a panting Botan looming over him with a broken paddle. "What just happened? What's going on? Why did the mustachioed man in a pink kimono beat me up with a boat paddle?"

Kurama winced and turned his head away, anticipating the worst. By the time he opened his eyes, there was almost nothing left of the paddle held by the panting, seething Botan. Thankfully, her silly swirly eyeglasses, fake nose, and mustache disguise had already fallen off of her face in her rage.

"You jackass! No wonder Keiko is so angry with you. It's this mouth! This mouth!" Botan began stretching said mouth to various proportions with her fingers.

"Bowtawng?" Yusuke in askance. "Ith thath you? HEYTH, LEGGOW MY MOUWTH!" Yusuke requested as intelligibly as possible. Regaining his perilous control over speech, he kindly asked, "What's the big idea beating me up with that paddle of yours?"

"And what's the big idea calling me a mustachioed cross-dresser?" Botan countered.

"YOU beat ME up with the paddle first! And you had that stupid disguise on. What was I supposed to think? You looked like my junior high math teacher in a dress! That was just disgusting!"

"It's sooo not stupid! It's cute, funny, and cool! I'm not hearing this, la la la la...!"

Kurama coughed once to get their notice. Surprised that _that_ worked, he then decided to make full use of their short attention span.

"Botan, Yusuke is now officially in a mission, right?"

Both ferry-girl and half-demon stared blankly at Kurama.

After about half a minute, Botan smacked the palm of her hand in realization. "That's right!" Kurama sighed in relief.

"REALLY? After all this time, it has finally come true? YEAH!" Yusuke exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air.

"Really, really!" Botan cheered, grinning from ear to ear as she held both of Yusuke's hands in celebration. "I'm so happy for you. Congratulations, Yu-chan!"

"Heh. It's not that I actually need permission from the Spirit World or anything," Yusuke scoffed, to which Botan nodded to patronizingly. "But you've got to admit, it's about time! Wait till I get my hands on that Munashii character. Ghost or no ghost, I'm gonna kick his ass! This is the going to be best mission yet, right? Botan? Kurama?"

"..." Botan and Kurama both chorused, wide-eyed in abject horror.

"Uh," Yusuke scratched the back of his head in bafflement. Perhaps there was bird poop on his head? 'Nope, that's my gel. Boy, these two are acting weird.' He afterwards felt a ghostly chill on the base of his spine. 'What is this terrible presence I feel!'

"I see. The best mission yet... Right, Yusuke?" a saccharine-sweet voice said.

'SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME, JEEZ!' Yusuke boggled at the young girl before him. "Ulp... K-K-K-Keiko!" He nonchalantly fell as he casually broke the wooden post he was leaning on into splinters. "Ehehehe. Nice weather we're having, eh?"

He was greeted again by his familiar companions: the shut wooden sliding doors. "So you're actually excited about that supposed 'mission' of yours, huh? You JERK! JACKASS" a muted voice called out none-too-gently.

Torn between turning his attention to either the recently announced mission or a very angry Keiko made Yusuke quite the funny sight.

* * *

Upon the empty hallways of what was once a bustling community of students walked Yu Kaito. A bespectacled youth of sixteen years of age, with half-lidded yet intelligent eyes, thick black curly hair, a wide frame jarred by lanky limbs and a face suffering from prepubescent acne; he was a conventional bookish student; or, for lack of a better word, a stereotypical nerd. Not that he particularly cared for the title-neither did he care for the fact that his scrupulous actions during that weekday afternoon actually complemented his physical typecast.

He had always liked the peace and quiet of the school grounds in the afternoon. Since he was such a familiar face during the after-school hours, the custodians didn't mind him being there at all. His slow and calculated steps, as well as his train of thought, stopped short upon seeing what was posted on the glass-encased bulletin board.

Yu Kaito: Top One.

Kaito derisively snorted. 'Top one? What of it?' He knew he easily surpassed a large percentage of the student body when it came to academics. Even though Meiou High was such a prestigious school to begin with, he was a cut above the rest. 'Getting this rank was a joke. It wasn't even a challenge for me. How insulting.'

Kaito scanned the list for a certain name; the only one that actually held a passing interest to him. Surprisingly, it wasn't there. The pedantic youth shook his head in dismay. 'Such a waste. He was certain to make it to the third rank at the least of his efforts, knowing the inferior academic performance of the other students.'

'Whatever happened to you, Minamino Shuichi?' Kaito deliberated to himself. He had asked around the faculty to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, Minamino asked for a leave of absence to attend to some 'family matters.' The red-haired prodigy requested for some special makeup exams instead. He practically pleaded for them, even. As such, he wasn't qualified for the top ten by default. 'Family matters, eh? It has been nearly a month since you've disappeared from the face of Meiou High. I wonder why.'

"Hey, Kaito! Stop gawking at that bulletin board! Fine, you're the top dog in your class; quit being a self-absorbed prick and come join us!" It was the yellow-haired punk Asato Kido talking, with his other associate, Mitsunari Yanagisawa, by his side.

They were Kaito's juvenile comrades from Mushiyori City who apparently needed him to baby-sit them again; their being younger than him by a couple of years was no excuse for their immaturity, though. They had no respect for a man who was deep in thought.

"Hey," Kaito condescendingly greeted his two acquaintances as he scuffled towards their general direction, his meditations left for another day.

* * *

"Still sulking, I see," Shizuru greeted the prone, blanketed form inside the futon as she carried various bath paraphernalia. "It's bath time, little brother."

Kazuma Kuwabara held his gaze at the ceiling, not really looking at it but seemingly staring through it, like it didn't exist. The same could be said with his attitude towards everything else around him.

"Hey, you orange-haired freak! Perhaps you'd rather that I bathe you like a little boy?" Shizuru taunted. "Don't tell me. You're ashamed about a little something, eh? I'll understand, since I'm your sister."

The thinly veiled insult caused a shift of sudden movement on her brother's part. Shizuru could barely hide her smile at Kuwabara's reaction to her little poke at his manhood. He was painfully predictable.

Kuwabara merely took away the kettle, the towels, and the sponge before saying, "You can go now. I can manage on my own."

'Damn. That li'l poke on his manhood thing had always worked before. Why does he have to be so damn friggin' melodramatic anyway?' Shizuru fumed silently as she wished she had a cigarette in hand right about now to appease her anger, lest it boils over strong enough to make her pour the scalding contents of the kettle over his little brother's little head. 'Who knows? Maybe it'll change the color of his gross, carroty hair.'

Kuwabara sighed. "I'm not in the mood for this."

Shizuru heaved her own heavy sigh. She subsequently decided to mess with her brother's head a little bit longer. "Well?"

"'Well' what?"

The elder Kuwabara crossed her arms as she looked at the younger Kuwabara nonchalantly. "Aren't you going to bathe? Well, go ahead."

"Not with an audience, I'm not!" was what Shizuru expected the banal Kazuma to say. Which was why she was surprised to hear, "You never really changed... Eh, neechan?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Shizuru all but shouted, taken aback by her brother's words. Her outward demeanor remained the same, but she inwardly cringed at what her brother's statement implied.

"What I mean is, _this!_" Kuwabara gestured his arms wide to emphasize his point. "You always,_ always_ have to avoid the real issue. You always go on the high road since you don't want to face emotional troubles! You slink around it, sneak your way through it, but you never confront it, _especially_ if it's the goddamn type of problem you can't solve! You ignore it until it goes away; that's what you do. You're always like this!"

Enlivened by his own morbid enthusiasm, the younger Kuwabara sat upright, looking his sister straight in the eye, daring her to speak. Hearing no contentions to his wordless challenge, he continued his impassioned yet pitiable speech. "What? No words of encouragement for your little brother? Aren't you going to say, 'It isn't your fault, Kazuma,' or, 'Hang in there, kiddo,' or 'Nothing can be done about it, just let go and do your best'? Where are your words of encouragement now, neechan? Am I too loathsome for you to spare any pity at all? What? Can't answer? Cat got your tongue?"

Shizuru pushed Kuwabara back to his futon as she got up. Turning towards his general direction as she looked down on him, she hotly replied, "So what are you going to do about it?

Greeted with confused silence, Shizuru prodded on, saying, "Not quite the response you were looking for either, eh? I have been putting up with your pity party for weeks on end ever since you've regained consciousness, but you just moped and bellyached on and on. Well, I'm sick of it. You should get over yourself. You don't need lip service, you need to get your butt off of that futon and do something. Grow up."

"So this is all the concern I get after being possessed? Suddenly, it's all my fault?" Kuwabara mumbled sullenly yet unenthusiastically.

"Shut your trap. You hate bullshitting, right? Fine, then. I'll give it to you straight, no bullshit. You know as well as I that it was all your fault, so don't go whining 'It was all my fault' to win some sympathy, 'coz you won't get it from me! Don't wallow in self-pity for your own convenience. Do something about it."

"Dammit, I wasn't having a pity party for myself because it was convenient! How could you be so cruel?" Kuwabara vehemently replied, his cheeks burning in a mixture of rage and embarrassment. "After everything I've been through, you won't even spare any pity or compassion on me at all? How cruel."

"Pity, yes," Shizuru confessed, unperturbed by his brother's outburst of emotion. "Compassion? No. Compassion would need respect and, quite frankly, I have little to none for you right now. So stop your whining already. Moping won't help you in your situation. What do you want to do now, Kazuma?" Upon receiving a dumbfounded stare on her idiotic brother's face as a response to her question, Shizuru heaved a sigh as she started to leave.

Kuwabara came out of his stupor in time to see his sister's back facing him as she departed from the room. He winced in anger, pain, guilt, and frustration as a memory permeated in his consciousness. It was a memory of the retreating form of a sleek-haired youth, his back turned in the same manner.

"Hold on a minute! Don't you dare turn your back on me!" Kuwabara's eyes were flaring with bright-red passion as he quickly stood up, now pointing at Yusuke's apparition in the same manner as before, whenever he issued a challenge to him.

"Don't you ever look down on me! Let's fight! We must know who really is the best! Right here! Right now! Today's your lucky day! I will make you experience how it feels like to be a loser!" Kuwabara recited from his memory, playing out the scene in his mind.

"Really?" Yusuke's face formed a particularly nasty grin; one that Kuwabara knew very well. It still gave him chills up his spine by just remembering it. "This is just great! I'm totally pissed right now. I feel like beating up someone today. Man, you're the one who's going to make make me feel so much better," the imaginary specter said, just as Kuwabara recalled it.

The dark smile never left the phantom Yusuke's face as he suddenly charged at the honorable and manly Kazuma Kuwabara. Then there was unworldly pain. Kuwabara never realized that he had such a lively imagination.

"Hey, Yusuke. He just came out of a two-week comma. I don't want him elapsing into another one, okay?" Shizuru casually warned, a ghost of a smile creeping in the edges of her mouth.

"GA-H! This really _is_ Urameshi? OWWW! URAMESHI, YOU BASTARD!"

* * *

As the lecturer droned on and on about the Roman culture et al, Kaito let his mind wander for a while longer. 'Their founders Romulus and Remus were raised by a bitch, their tendency to copycat showed that they were as creative as celery, and their overzealous appetites created such structural marvels as the _ vomitorium_. So what's the point?' the supercilious adolescent summarized in his head every time the teacher enumerated topic after mind-numbing topic. 'Humph. It's not like I don't already know enough about this dreary subject.'

'Personally, I have nothing against Isako-sensei, but-' Kaito looked at the middle-aged, beady-eyed professor, his constant monotone reminiscent of bees hovering nearby, lulling him into what could be termed as 'waking slumber', where one was not only half-awake, but also suffering shallow sleepiness.

'All these dates, places, and names are a trivial pursuit leading to a complete summary of man's eternal quest for knowledge that'll ironically result in mere senselessness, the cycle repeating again, and again, and again-just like the constant droning of this... this... robot-for-a-teacher.'

But even Kaito was getting tired in overanalyzing the situation-his only recompense to the ever-foreboding lethargy that threatened to engulf him in a barrage of pure, apathy-induced tedium.

'Here's the understatement of the millennium: History is boring. Cycle after vicious cycle, turning and spinning around each other like intricate clockwork in a constant tick-tock, rotating again and again until the very essence of your sanity is grinded into potpourri. It's too much for even a genius to take.' Annoyed, he doodled mindlessly on his mostly empty notebook, trying to tune out whatever gibberish his mentor was spewing out. To Kaito, the teacher's repetitive prattle was sounding more and more like a constant irrevocable hum instead of actual, intelligible speech.

'Past deeds are past deeds. Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, for goodness sake! What happens in the present is what concerns me the most.' He started scribbling again, but this time his doodles gave form to legible characters. 'Subject: Minamino Shuichi,' he parroted the hastily scrawled writings in his mind.

Having a new distraction to aim his analytical mind at, Kaito wrote underneath another name with a flourish at the end of his injudicious strokes.

'Kurama.'

'Perfect.' He grinned to himself, chuckling, not at all minding the curious eyes that wandered over his desk and his person-eyes that were surprised and apprehensive at his rare display of passion.

He turned introspective once more as he looked blankly at his roughshod script. 'Being on the top of the class was my only joy for a long time in school since I only excelled in academics. That much I can admit to myself. I am neither socially nor physically attractive, but for a long time, I was rather content with my superior academic standing and intellect-up until Minamino Shuichi came into my life.'

He tried sketching his nefarious rival's face, but hastily decided that he was more of an intellectual, and not an artist. 'He was everything that I wasn't... handsome and popular... but I couldn't care less about that. The worst of all... worst of all...!'

He remembered his slack-jawed reflection on the glass of the familiar bulletin board when he saw his name on the second ranking. Right above it was Shuichi Minamino's name. 'I thought my eyes were deceiving me. I was rendered in a state of utter disbelief. It was unreasonable for this doppelganger to be so... so... repulsively perfect. He already had everything; how dare he take my only joy!'

In his memories, Kaito saw beside him a mob of various well-wishers-mostly female-congratulating a nauseatingly modest Shuichi Minamino, his hand at the back of his head and all. 'Popular, good-looking, congenial... and now a phenomenal genius. I couldn't stand it at the time. I wasn't only good at academics, but I was the best! For him to suddenly waltz in and turn my world upside-down like nobody's business was simply unacceptable.'

Shuichi Minamino's brilliant performance grated Yu Kaito's nerves to no end. The redheaded bishonen's utter faultlessness annoyed the nerd in ways he couldn't even dream possible. To take away his scholastic excellence was equal to taking an arm or a leg from his person. 'I would become a decrepit nothing.' Yet after that incident, for the first time ever since he started school-for the first time in his life, even-he found something enjoyable to do.

It wasn't just the studying itself that was so satisfying to Kaito. Before, he did it only for the sake of being in a higher level than his less-gifted classmates... an elitist attitude, for sure... but this time around, he actually had to strive to attain perfection. He was at last challenged and compelled to make sure his mental abilities were developed to their fullest potential.

'So the incident helped me in ways even I couldn't imagine. Soon, I realized that I was both overestimating and underestimating my own abilities at the same time-overestimating in the sense that I thought I was already beyond fault, underestimating in the sense that I thought I could be no better than what I already was then. I finally realized my own self-worth.' Kaito idly checked to see if Isako-sensei had already left. To his chagrin, he was still there, listening intently to a nervous student recite. The meditative boy let his mind wander some more, not to be bothered with the dreariness of recitation.

'What was so fascinating to me was that, once upon a time, my natural talent in academics was the very thing that kept me from realizing my true potential. I kept using that as my excuse for everything. It was my justification for all my inadequacies. Not good in sports and physical education? That's all right, I'm good in academics. That's enough. Not gifted in social situations and group dynamics? It's okay. I'm smart. I'm smarter than any of them-than all of them. They don't deserve my notice; they are below it.'

Kaito chuckled to himself. 'My own talents stunted my growth and development as a person. But all that changed because of Minamino-kun. I rediscovered myself through perseverance and determination. I renewed myself, becoming truly whole, now knowing what I am truly capable of and who I truly am.'

Reminiscing, nostalgia took free reign of Kaito's senses.

* * *

It was a familiar setting. Yu Kaito was standing on the familiar spot in the hallway, checking to see the latest post in the bulletin board. Classmates and students, familiar and unfamiliar, were all used to this scenario as they made their way around the riveted youth, all but ignoring him. Nodding to himself in affirmation, Kaito absentmindedly tapped on the glass in front of the posted top scores in last week's Physics examinations.

'Ah. Minamino-kun is ahead of me by four points.' In the corner of his eye, Kaito could make out the usual silhouette of a familiar, long-haired boy making his way through the hallway in his usual hurry.

"Minamino-kun," Kaito responded simply, as if merely acknowledging the red-haired boy's presence. Minamino turned his attentions to the geeky youth, politely giving him a nod of askance. He did seem a bit relieved though, as evidenced by his inching away ever so discreetly from the myriad of female well-wishers circling around him like vultures.

Kaito hadn't even taken away his gaze at the bulletin board as he spoke. "Minamino-kun, you're slipping. Even though you've again gotten the highest grade, you could've done better. You usually could outdo me by ten points or so."

Minamino scratched the back of his head in his usual feign of ignorance as he sheepishly stated, "Really, Kaito-kun? I wasn't really keeping count."

"You easily made eight mistakes, three of them I got. Most of them you could've simply avoided by reading and following the instructions carefully. It seems that your mind was wandering during the test," Kaito calculatedly evaluated. "I don't like having a below par rival, Minamino-kun. Lately, your perfect record for attendance has been inexplicably tarnished by unexpected absences."

"Ah, it's really nice that you consider me your rival, Kaito-kun, but I do have other responsibilities to attend to aside from school." Minamino laughed in a decidedly stilted manner.

"Never you mind, Minamino-kun; it's just a matter of time before it'll be me who gets the top rank. Please, don't get left behind," Kaito none-too-subtly challenged in his typical deadpan.

"I'm sure that you could do it. You're certainly the most deserving one in our class. After all, you're the one who studies the hardest among all of us! I truly found your History report just a while ago to be insightful and-"

Minamino suddenly halted in mid-sentence as Kaito motioned him to stop. The red-haired boy fell silent as Kaito spoke. "My History report was below par yours, even though you had probably less than a day to prepare for it given the erratic nature of your school attendance. I have no need to be patronized."

Minamino blinked once at the declaration before smirking wanly. Nodding to himself, he addressed Kaito in a less condescending manner. "Very well. If you really insist, I'll be frank. Kaito Yu-kun, it'll take you a millennium to reach my level of intelligence-and in every single year of those hundreds of years, you'll have to study with your life. If that is the only statement you can accept from me, so be it."

"I'll shorten it to a month's time, at most half a year's time, to get to that level," Kaito pledged as he started to make his leave. "You're stagnated while I am dynamic. Of course, I still expect no less of a challenge from you, Minamino Shuichi-kun."

* * *

'So it was a rather productive year, if I may say so myself,' Kaito assessed. 'It may be true that I never bettered Minamino Shuichi in any subject except language and literature whenever he could attend school; the closest I ever got was a one point difference in favor of him in Math. But I can honestly say that I thoroughly enjoyed the past year.'

'However, it wasn't at all nearly as interesting as what happened just recently-when strange things suddenly occurred around our area-around Meiou, in particular. Horror stories of missing students and bizarre things happening to people; perplexing diseases spreading like a contagion that not even modern medicine could explain; people dying of mere fatigue; I couldn't care less about such things if I myself haven't experienced them firsthand.'

'I cannot remember how exactly I met up with the old woman known as Genkai; or perhaps it was the other way around and she found me... found us, actually. That didn't matter much to me either.' Kaito smirked. 'What did matter was that I finally had a chance to learn all about the enigma that was Minamino Shuichi and the truth behind that puzzling statement he once told me.'

"Kaito Yu-kun, it'll take you a millennium to reach my level."

* * *

"Kaito Yu is your name, is it not?" the old woman wearing what seemed to be ancient Chinese martial arts clothes asked. Kaito looked at her apprehensively and nodded.

He warily eyed the two other people inside the room. The way they were acting, with their mouths agape as they gazed around the interior of the abandoned house, was reminiscent of little children entering a theme park haunted house for the first time. It also confirmed his suspicions; they also have no idea where they were or what was going on, which was typical. The philosophical youth guessed that though they all looked about the same age, he was the eldest of the three.

'Immature,' Kaito concluded to himself as he warily eyed his two presumably would-be associates.

"I believe you haven't met each other yet," the elderly woman stated the obvious. Kaito remembered the old lady introducing herself beforehand. What was her name? Genki? Remembering the names of complete strangers wasn't exactly his forte.

"Oh... Heh... I'm K-K-Kido Asato. It's nice to meet you," the bleached-haired, gothic-looking youth formally greeted. The dark lines under his eyes made him look like a drug addict; a delinquent, at the very least. The shaking hand he offered rather reinforced the idea in Kaito's head. The nerd cautiously looked at the aforementioned hand but made no move to shake it.

Kaito nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw a completely three-dimensional version of himself bound over him and scream in an exaggeratedly comic voice, "HEY!"

"My, my, but you're a jumpy one," the nightmarish phantom-clone of Kaito appraised. It then suddenly morphed into a droopy-eyed, broom-haired... for lack of a better word... freak. "This changing-into-different-persons ability I got was one of the reasons why I'm here. I think. I presume you also have the same... er... talents?"

Hearing no response, the broom-haired delinquent continued. "Yanagisawa Mitsunari, at your service. But you can call me Yanagi."

'Speak for yourself, you broom-haired freak,' was what Kaito meant to say, but instead he simply went with, "I'm Kaito Yu."

"You can easily see from your uniforms that you all came from different schools. In particular, Kaito Yu-kun here came from Meiou High."

Yanagisawa did a low whistle. "Meiou? That's a top notch school."

The old woman turned towards Kaito. "I already talked to the two about their specific mission concerning our soon-to-be-visitors. Their task will be relatively easy," she snorted derisively as she added, "considering who their target is."

Kaito nodded slowly, doing his best not to show how alarmed he was with all the sudden developments happening around him. "These missions you're talking about; they have something to do with what's been happening in our city lately, as well as with-"

"What has been going on with you?" the matured martial artist finished for him. "Of course; I'll explain everything in due time. Your newfound abilities will be of great use to our agenda. Besides, I haven't exactly picked any of you out by random. There's a reason why you're all here."

With one of Kaito's eyebrows raised in curiosity, the strange woman resumed, "I'm sure you know of a certain Minamino Shuichi in your class; am I correct?" That piqued Kaito's interest.

"For the others who are about to come here, Kido and Yanagi are enough. But for the one known as Kurama, I will need your help, Kaito-kun." The elderly woman smiled, which made Kaito feel strangely queasy. "Follow me. We have much to talk about."

* * *

"Kaito Yu is your name, is it not?" the old woman wearing what seemed to be ancient Chinese martial arts clothes asked. Kaito looked at her apprehensively and nodded.

He warily eyed the two other people inside the room. The way they were acting, with their mouths agape as they gazed around the interior of the abandoned house, was reminiscent of little children entering a theme park haunted house for the first time. It also confirmed his suspicions; they also have no idea where they were or what was going on, which was typical. The philosophical youth guessed that though they all looked about the same age, he was the eldest of the three.

'Immature,' Kaito concluded to himself as he warily eyed his two presumably would-be associates.

"I believe you haven't met each other yet," the elderly woman stated the obvious. Kaito remembered the old lady introducing herself beforehand. What was her name? Genki? Remembering the names of complete strangers wasn't exactly his forte.

"Oh... Heh... I'm K-K-Kido Asato. It's nice to meet you," the bleached-haired, gothic-looking youth formally greeted. The dark lines under his eyes made him look like a drug addict; a delinquent, at the very least. The shaking hand he offered rather reinforced the idea in Kaito's head. The nerd cautiously looked at the aforementioned hand but made no move to shake it.

Kaito nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw a completely three-dimensional version of himself bound over him and scream in an exaggeratedly comic voice, "HEY!"

"My, my, but you're a jumpy one," the nightmarish phantom-clone of Kaito appraised. It then suddenly morphed into a droopy-eyed, broom-haired... for lack of a better word... freak. "This changing-into-different-persons ability I got was one of the reasons why I'm here. I think. I presume you also have the same... er... talents?"

Hearing no response, the broom-haired delinquent continued. "Yanagisawa Mitsunari, at your service. But you can call me Yanagi."

'Speak for yourself, you broom-haired freak,' was what Kaito meant to say, but instead he simply went with, "I'm Kaito Yu."

"You can easily see from your uniforms that you all came from different schools: Yanagi and Kido came from Sarayashiki Junior High, and Kaito-kun here came from Meiou High."

Yanagisawa did a low whistle. "Meiou? That's a top notch school."

The old woman turned towards Kaito. "I already talked to the two about their specific mission concerning our soon-to-be-visitors. Their task will be relatively easy," she snorted derisively as she added, "considering who their target is."

Kaito nodded slowly, doing his best not to show how alarmed he was with all the sudden developments happening around him. "These missions you're talking about; they have something to do with what's been happening in our city lately, as well as with-"

"What has been going on with you?" the matured martial artist finished for him. "Of course; I'll explain everything in due time. Your newfound abilities will be of great use to our agenda. Besides, I haven't exactly picked any of you out by random. There's a reason why you're all here."

With one of Kaito's eyebrows raised in curiosity, the strange woman resumed, "I'm sure you know of a certain Minamino Shuichi in your class; am I correct?" That piqued Kaito's interest.

"For the others who are about to come here, Kido and Yanagi are enough. But for the one known as Kurama, I will need your help, Kaito-kun." The elderly woman smiled, which made Kaito feel strangely queasy. "Follow me. We have much to talk about."

* * *

"How long do you think he'll sit there, talking to himself?" one of Kaito's classmates asked as he watched the scholarly youth chuckle to himself inside the classroom in all his lonesome. "Doesn't he know that we've already been dismissed thirty minutes ago?"

"You want to bet on just how long can he keep that up?" the other one asked, grinning.

"I dunno. He's starting to _really_ weird me out. He's already mumbling stuff about Minamino-kun. I didn't realize he swung that way. I think I'll pass."

"Whatever, dude. Maybe his creepy little posse from Mushiyori will wake him up from his trance or something."

"They're into voodoo, I tell ya."

The two jumped up in surprise when Kaito suddenly stood up and pointed valiantly towards the other doorway, crying out, "Minamino-kun has returned!"

"Uh, how'd you figure that?" the thinner, taller one of his nameless classmates queried.

"Are you using the dark arts to predict the whereabouts of your significant other?" the shorter, weasel-like one theorized from behind the stick figure classmate. Kaito made a mental note to at least try to remember his classmates' names next time-or at least the ones whom he was frequently acquainted with.

"Actually, my first clue was when I saw Minamino-kun's little admirer wave a banner saying, 'Sempai is back!' outside the school yard, from my vantage point near the window," Kaito plainly explained as his unidentified contemporaries facefaulted.

"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY, YOU CLODS!"

"ACK! It's a stampede!"

"Away with you! Shu-chan is back!"

"You harlot, don't call Minamino-sama that!"

"OW, Hey, my FOOT!"

"Oh yeah, my second clue was the gaggle of girls stampeding in the hallway," Kaito further elaborated to the two disheveled figures holding onto each other for dear life as they shivered in petrified horror. He nodded his good-byes to them and left.

'Well, well. Life goes on in Meiou High.'

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Shuichi Minamino's everyday life... continues.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen _not _Shonen-Ai._ Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	7. Chapter 6: Springtime

Yusuke Urameshi was a simple man, with simple joys and simple dreams. Some said-if it were in a polite manner-that he was abrasive and somewhat emotional; too emotional, even. Others said that he was straight to the point, always getting into the heart of the matter. There were even others who said that he was the type of jackass who'd pull an Oedipus on his own mother (that particular statement was usually said very discreetly, in low tones and never in his presence).

'I couldn't protect her. With all my supposed strength and power, I couldn't protect her.'

But critics and admirers alike could never imagine him as he was now; far from the oversimplified brute or perhaps the no-nonsense badass they thought he was. It was so because right now, Yusuke Urameshi was crying.

After all, simple dreams were far more fragile than ambiguous fantasies. They were much easier to grasp and realize; much easier to take for granted; so much easier to break.

'Why couldn't I protect her? What use is all this great power if I couldn't even save her? DAMMIT, WHY? WHY!'

Yusuke was, to put things bluntly, a broken man. He sat there in the corner-just as his mother had during his own 'funeral'-trembling in quiet rage, wearing a black leather jacket in typical Urameshi fashion; the most people would expect him to wear in a formal occasion. He sat there, never moving, never allowing himself to gaze beyond his feet, because beyond that was an awful truth that stabbed deeper than lies ever could.

Yusuke was a young man who hated doing things haphazardly. He hated hypocrites who were only halfway honest through half-gleeful, half-annoyed sarcasm. When one had a mission to accomplish, he must put all his heart into it, with no hesitation whatsoever. That was one of the most basic Urameshi principles.

Yusuke hated himself all the more by violating these sacred edicts-shaking in quiet rage, adopting a tough exterior, and sporting an equally artificial mask of deceptive Urameshi assuredness-when all he really wanted to do was to break down and cry.

He was sinking in a quicksand of lies, purposelessness, and denial. Even his thoughts had become uncharacteristically profound-as if it could cover up the irrefutable facts before him.

Damn it.

Here was the reality of the situation: Keiko was dead and all was hell for Yusuke Urameshi.

He wanted to trash around and give in to the despair and frustration that was driving him to near madness. He wanted to smash that smiling picture of Keiko Yukimura on the incense-adorned altar-but he'd be fooling himself once again. He wanted to, but he couldn't.

In his half-state of inner turmoil and confusion, he was paralyzed... so, in quintessence, it was just as well. It was still the Urameshi way: all or nothing.

Then so be it; nothing then.

He was just tired; too tired to be anything more than depressed.

Enough was enough.

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Chapter 6... ah, yes... the four seasons arc.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Springtime**

* * *

She stood there, in the warm fire of the setting sun, beautiful as ever. The warm orange glow of the afternoon rested comfortably on her smooth, creamy skin, complementing the passionate colors.

She was adorned only with a garland of tulips that covered her exposed chest and a small sarong concealing what was left of her modesty. She was glad for the sunset, because they helped well in hiding her own heated blush.

Keiko Yukimura shifted her foot in embarrassment as her unacknowledged significant other looked at her with an ardent gaze that could've bore holes upon her person until all that was left was her shivering, naked soul. It was the compelling stare of Yusuke Urameshi.

Keiko's eyes began to travel all over Yusuke's body, looking timidly at his similarly sparse wardrobe. Her eyes alighted upon the young, lean, yet firm muscles of his physique-his biceps, his broad chest, even the slight scars that decorated his torso suddenly became appealing to her. Her face burned as her eyes traveled further down Yusuke's abdomen.

She was in a weird mood, but this was a weird setting altogether, so she gave it no mind. She sighed breathlessly as Yusuke advanced-manly, determined Yusuke; her Yusuke. Wordlessly, he grabbed her by her waist, gently caressing the small of her back as they kissed.

Smooth lips met with her soft ones as Keiko gently puckered hers almost playfully, teasingly. They kissed as though they were suffocating and the only way for them to breathe again was through each other's mouths. The rest of the world then melted into inconsequence.

'Strange,' Keiko thought, bemused. 'Even though this kiss was exactly what I imagined and more, there's something off,' she idly wondered, noting that these were subtle issues that the voice in her head couldn't even begin to describe.

The smoothness of the kiss, though passionate in every respect, wasn't at all what Keiko expected it to be. Not that she was disappointed or anything, but there was this slight irksome thing that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She further mulled things over as she gently slid her hands over Yusuke's smooth back.

'Wait... Yusuke's _smooth _back?' She checked as she stroked his broad shoulders. Sure enough, there wasn't a trace of any nicked or scarred skin on his back. She felt his muscles. They had become smoother, almost marble-like, if marble felt this warm and supple. Almost imperceptibly, Yusuke's build became more slender, smoother, and curvaceous. It was as if...!

Keiko opened her eyes. Soft, red bangs greeted her. She grabbed his hair. It was longish and almost furry-soft, like that of a... a fox.

'Kurama-san?' Keiko exclaimed in her thoughts, her eyes wide in shock as the youko dipped her in a warm embrace, his lips never leaving hers.

* * *

Kurama's eyes widened. Fright, alarm and a whole other menagerie of feelings and emotions engulfing him as he woke up from his weird-for lack of a better, descriptive term-nightmare.

Kurama stood up from his seat, hands on his desk. He, to put it frankly, was startled beyond mere agitation. His face was as white as a sheet as he struggled to catch up with his breath. 'What was that all about?'

Various murmurs suddenly surrounded the youko incased in a human shell as he regained his bearings. 'It couldn't be possible that I...?'

"Well now. It seems that our absentee superstar is in the limelight once again," one very annoyed teacher sarcastically commented.

Kurama rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. 'Oh no. I was finally able to carry out a longtime Meiou High School tradition; sleep in Isako-sensei's History class.' He threw in a token nervous smile, which made a few girls sigh dreamily, but didn't even faze the irritated History teacher.

The buzz inside the classroom suddenly grew as Mr. Isako began to harangue Kurama, who for now was known by the infamous name of Shuichi Minamino.

"So how does it feel to _again_ be at the center of attention, Minamino-kun?" Mr. Isako snidely remarked as he looked up at the tall 'teenager'. Frowning, he added, "Sit down, Minamino-kun." After all, one couldn't intimidate a person that was a foot taller than oneself.

Kurama didn't take note of Mr. Isako's unnecessary harshness as he sat down, but his gaggle of admirers... namely, all the females in the class... did. Thusly, they collectively directed a hateful glare at the bug-eyed teacher. The strict disciplinarian flinched a bit, despite himself.

Mr. Isako coughed once before continuing. "I don't particularly care for the administration's biased treatment of you and your case. I don't give a damn if you have the I.Q. of Hawkins or Einstein. In my class, there are no celebrities! It's either you shape up or ship out!"

The glares soon turned into backtalk, as the entirety of the class's female population began committing concealed slander and fantasizin homicide on the detestable professor.

"Another mistake like this and I'll send you outside to hold buckets of water for the entire period! Do I make myself clear, Minamino-kun?"

Kurama bowed his head courteously. "It won't happen again, Isako-sensei." A collective sigh of female disheartenment was heard from the classroom as Mr. Isako admonished them to settle down.

The half-youko furrowed his eyebrows in concern. 'Where did that strange dream come from? What did it mean? Is it a symbolic dream or...?' He cut off that train of thought as he willed himself not to fall deep into his musings yet again.

'No, that's silly. It's just a juvenile dream with no meaning or significant implications. Just the silly thoughts of an idle mind, that's all,' Kurama rationalized as he tried to focus on Mr. Isako's lessons in Japanese History and the study of the Bakumatsu no Douran.

* * *

"I wonder what that was all about?" a female classmate of Shuichi whispered to her nearest seatmate as she casually tossed her long, straight, auburn hair. Her large, round earrings shook as she inched her desk near her friend. "Bug-eyed Isako's temper tantrums are acting up, as usual, but what's with Minamino-sama? It's not like him to sleep in the middle of class, no matter how boring the teacher is."

The other girl-a mousy, timid girl with spectacles so wide they could be mistaken for goggles-shyly replied, "I'm worried about Minamino-san too, Chiho-san. He's not acting like himself. Ever since he took that month-long leave of absence... I hope it's nothing serious."

"You're the worrywart as usual, Midori-chan," the girl identified as Chiho lightly scoffed, a perennially impish smile plastered on her face. She then gestured with her pointer finger aiming upwards; a habitual gesture on her part. "I'm sure that Minamino-sama has his reasons for acting the way he does right now. Really; he's better than that.

"Sasae-kun, Ohya-kun," Mr. Isako called out to the two whispering girls, Chiho and Midori, respectively. "Unless you want to receive bucket duty today, I strongly suggest that you take this little discussion of yours outside, _after_ my class is over," he chastised, scowling.

As soon as the teacher's back was turned, Chiho made a face, sticking out her tongue. "What a hairsplitting stickler. No wonder he doesn't have a wife or a life," she heckled, not noticing Midori's silent statement of "That's a bit too mean, Chiho-san."

"Well, what do you think, Yumiko?" Chiho asked conversationally as she addressed the girl in front of her, taking full advantage of the teacher's brief distraction of writing even more boring notes on the blackboard. "Do you think Minamino-sama's thinking of an old girlfriend or something?"

The girl Yumiko shook her head, the longish strands of hair on both sides of her head swinging slightly like swaying bamboo leaves in a windy day. "I think Shu-chan and I are finally connecting-as I slept, so did he. We were sharing the same mind during that fleeting moment of unconsciousness." She sighed dreamily.

"Hey, get your head out of the clouds," Chiho deadpanned, her eyes half-lidded in skepticism. "For one thing, stop calling Minamino-sama 'Shu-chan'; you're not that close. For another, there's no way Minamino-sama could be sharing the same thoughts as you do. They're only filled with stupid scenes from shojo manga."

"They are so not stupid! The best shojo manga stories show a sensitive and perceptive outlook toward love and romance. Besides, I'm a girl, so it's only natural for me to read girl's comics."

"I'm sure it's also natural for Minamino-sama to read girl's comics too, just so he could be of 'one mind' with you," Chiho prodded, smirking.

"Um, Chiho-san? Yumiko-san?" Midori timidly ventured.

Yumiko's voice was raised an ante. "Yeah? Well it's much better than the bishonen shtick you're into now! Honestly! You're into yaoi! It has become-No, it's beyond an obsession for you!"

"That's it! No more Mr. Nice Guy! Sasae-kun and friend! Get out of the room and find those buckets now! Since you're quite familiar with the process, Sasae-kun, you should go teach your friend the entire procedure!"

There were two collective groans as one Midori Ohya sighed. "They should have been a lot more quiet," she squeaked softly, sighing again.

* * *

So Keiko suddenly woke up. She patted herself in panic, expecting to feel soft flower petals and even softer skin of her half-undressed state. Instead, the synthetic feel of a life jacket greeted her wrinkled, prune-like hands. 'Hold on; life jacket? Wrinkled hands? What the heck is going on here?'

She turned her head slowly. A grainy texture was supporting her whole body. 'My hands are a bit moist. Could it be...?' As she finally did a sidelong glance, her eyes widened in shock. The pounding waves of the sea coincided with her heart's own quickened pace. It was an endless field of blue. It was awe-inspiring... astounding... frightening.

She quickly got up on her feet, turning around from the horrifying yet beautiful sight. What greeted her was something far worse, however. Torn-up, twisted metal protruding from uprooted and snapped palm trees; shattered glass dangerously littering the nearby mounds of sand-it was the remains of a helicopter. 'What the heck just happened here?'

A stray memory suddenly hit the young girl full force as the whole situation fell into perspective for her. 'Oh, that's right. Our helicopter crash-landed during the storm. I was so scared, but Kurama-san helped me through it.' Her heart skipped a few beats as a distressing revelation suddenly dawned to her.

'Omigodomigodomigod I hope he's safe!' Keiko thought, panicked.

"Hey, Keiko. Over here."

Keiko unthinkingly followed the effeminate voice's source. Sure enough, there he was hanging nonchalantly over one of the many coconut trees, calmly holding a coconut using his free hand. His red hair was a bit frayed from the storm, but this time it was neatly tied up instead of being messily let loose. He wore sunglasses and a tight muscle shirt bearing a western-written phrase 'The Nonsense Cat.'

"I thought you'd never wake up. Guess we're stuck here in this deserted island for a while... Ne, Keiko-chan?

* * *

'It's that weird dream again,' Kurama thought as he shook his head out of his unwanted reverie. 'I don't understand why I should be dreaming of such things. Should I even be dreaming of it?'

He furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes turned into slits of cunning and intelligence. 'Does Munashii have anything to do with this? Now that he has firmly established the fact that I cannot be attacked directly... physically... is he now resorting to psychological warfare?'

But Kurama scoffed at the idea just as soon as it occurred to him. 'This dream is far too trivial to be interpreted as an attack. No. It's just a silly dream that I'm reading way too much into.'

He silently ate alone in the cafeteria, unable to savor the taste of his food as it left an anesthetic blandness in his mouth. He mechanically acknowledged each passerby that greeted him, his phony cheerfulness concealing his distracted state.

'But if the dream was so silly, why do I have to repeat the fact to myself at least a dozen times? Why do I feel so defensive?' Kurama deliberated to himself over and over, which was ironic, considering the nature of his statement.

Nothing could penetrate the otherworldly place Kurama's mind currently occupied. In a similar way, no one should ever enter a blushing girl's Dream World as she tried to escape the harsh realities of the Real World, surrendering entirely to her fantasy.

* * *

"OH NO! Don't tell me that we're stuck on this island!" Keiko hopelessly exclaimed. "How did we get stuck here, Kurama-san? How? What will happen to us now? I wonder how Yusuke is doing... I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT!"

'Keiko's... not quite acting like herself,' Kurama thought to himself in chagrin. He then felt a frown form on his face. 'What's with this contemptible sneer? I'm also acting strange in this dream.' To Keiko, he said, "Panicking won't get us out of this predicament. We have to be calm and collected in order to rationally think of a way to solve the problem at hand."

Kurama regarded his words carefully. 'Well, that sounded a lot like me, only what's with my seemingly rude attitude? This isn't the way to speak to Keiko-san!'

Keiko looked at Kurama with shimmering yet angry eyes. "You insensitive jerk! There are times when you're much worse than Yusuke!" She then looked contemplative as she muttered, "But those times are rare."

Kurama rubbed his head in irritation. 'But I don't feel irritated or annoyed at all!' he confusedly thought. "Humph. Just shut up. I hate it when you act like some sort of spoiled brat."

Keiko fought back her tears as she addressed Kurama in a more polite, collected manner. "If you don't mind, maybe we could rummage through the wreck to find some things we could actually use."

Kurama cut the coconut he was holding in half with a machete and began drinking its milk. 'I can't believe I'm actually ignoring Keiko-san's request. It's as if my body was possessed like Kuwabara-kun's was in our last encounter with Munashii!'

Keiko merely continued pestering the mostly unresponsive Kurama. "Don't we have any supplies of some sort or something? Anything?" She put her hands on her hips. "Don't just stand there, Kurama-san! I need your help! Don't we have a radio, or even a...?"

Kurama looked up as Keiko suddenly brightened. "A cellphone! I remember having a cellphone in my bag! If it somehow survived the crash, then there's an off-chance that...!" Trailing-off from her excited prattle, she began running towards the wreckage.

Kurama merely sweatdropped as Keiko suddenly began dancing for joy. "I found it! I found it! I found the cellphone!" she said, laughing gleefully. "Kurama-san! Look, look! I'm not the spoiled brat you think I am! And it even has three bars left in its battery! We're saved! We're saved!

Before Kurama could respond in kind, Keiko was already propped on a nearby rock. "All I need to do is find a signal, call the authorities or Yusuke or whoever it is we have to call, and then everything will be fine!" She excitedly dialed a number, not minding the growing sound of rushing waters behind her. Kurama was just too dumbstruck to say anything as a big tidal wave approached the hapless duo.

A resounding splash was heard. They sputtered amidst the vast amount of salt water crashing over them.

When it was over, a scream was heard, then ceaseless bawling followed. Whimpers of "Why? Why? Why was there a stupid tidal wave behind my back? Why did Kami-sama allow me to lose the cellphone I was holding-our only ticket home? Why does God hate me so much? We'll never get out of here now!" filled the entire length of the beach.

Before Kurama could catch himself, weird and cruel thoughts had already begun to enter his mind. 'Now I have to be aloof and totally uncaring since I don't like emotional women. I should say something cool; preferably something derogatory to distance myself from her emotional outburst.'

That was before Kurama had a full glimpse of Keiko's pathetic state-reddened eyes, ceaseless sobs, and a humiliated expression on her face. 'The poor thing. Why did I think of such cruel things? First, I say things I don't really mean, and now I think things I don't really believe. What a strange dream I'm having.' Kurama shook his head, smiling.

He put a consoling hand on Keiko's shoulder, looking straight at the shorter girl's eyes. 'Now, what I'm really going to do is calm her down and tell her in all sincerity that it wasn't really her fault.' He nodded to himself in self-approval of his proposal.

"It's all your fault," he simply said, earning him a bristling glare from Keiko.

'Ack! No good! What made me say such things? Oh no; I didn't really mean it, Keiko-san!' Kurama thought frantically while still maintaining a callous and indifferent front.

'I have to correct this! I know! I'll say, 'It was lucky for you to find the cellphone in that wreckage in the first place!'' he thought, which somehow came out as, "It was lucky for you to find the cellphone, knowing your limited intellect." And so the thought and speech pattern was finally established.

'That didn't come out right. Um... I'll comment on her insightfulness.'

"You did have the insightfulness of a sugar-high nine year old as you pranced around with the cellphone after you found it. Too bad it's gone now."

'Definitely not a very nice thing to say-even though it was partly true, and my grammar didn't look too atrocious. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Ah! I'll make a 'Let us look at the bright side' comment instead! That'll work.'

"It's okay that you lost the cellphone; I mean, c'mon! Did you really think that calling them from here would save us? I mean, we barely have any idea where we are! It'd be stupid to think that your useless gesture would amount to anything, but nice try."

Kurama didn't even feel the slap.

"You jerk," Keiko spat, brimming with uncontainable resentment. "You selfish, arrogant, insensitive jerk."

Kurama loathed himself then and there as he heard her last words before she ran away deep in the twisted, dark depths of the jungle.

"I HATE YOU!"

* * *

Kurama checked his cheek to see if the hot, stinging sensation was still there. There was none. He looked around the hallway. Sure enough, a reddish-brown atmosphere had taken over the lobby. 'It's already way past dismissal time, in the afternoon. I must have been daydreaming. I also must have been sleepwalking, only awake. How long was I out of it?'

He leaned against a nearby wall, sighing. He repeated his mantra from earlier on in Mr. Isako's class, as if its repetition would somehow ensure its effectiveness. 'It was just another dream; just another meaningless dream... right?'

A vision of Keiko crying replayed itself in Kurama's mind. 'Right?'

Kurama silently made his way to the station, another stray memory entering his mind-that of an old adolescent female friend walking side-by-side with him, her hand grasping his.

* * *

Kurama listlessly inserted his ticket into the terminal slot as he went in the train station. He had a lot in his mind-things that he was unwilling to acknowledge, but was still in his mind nonetheless. He berated himself endlessly; from whence he left the school onward, he ceaselessly chided his reaction over the subject, falling into a deadly, deprecatory trap of his own making.

'I have far more important things to think of-far more important things to worry about-than that. All of this worrying is really unnecessary. The case with Munashii and the safety of kaasan and my friends are the things that I should be thinking about, not some ambiguous fantasy about Keiko-san. I mean it's not only that I've barely held a conversation with her outside of 'Hi-Hello,' but...' his thoughts trailed off as the railway transit's automatic doors opened.

"Kurama-san?" Keiko muttered, mildly surprised, before she neatly folded the women's magazine she was reading and put it in her handbag.

Kurama's heart was suddenly caught in his throat as he resisted the urge to backpedal. It wasn't becoming of him to do so, after all. He just replied in kind with his own, "Keiko-san?"

"..." the two mutually riposted.

Keiko was the first one to speak. "What a nice coincidence! I didn't know you rode on this train! I usually don't see you in this station," she conversationally started, openly smiling.

Kurama rubbed the back of his head, consigning himself to his 'boy-next-door' act. "Oh, I don't usually go home this late and all. I was also surprised. You were the last person I expected to see here! You see, my mind wandered a bit and before I knew it, it was already past dismissal time in the afternoon!"

'What an odd coincidence indeed. It's as if the fates are mocking me,' Kurama dismayedly thought as he sighed at his luck.

"Kurama-san always has so many things to think about. Such is the life of a genius, right?" Keiko teased.

"You exaggerate," Kurama answered with a half-smile. 'Well, at least she's not angry with me like in the dream. That counts for something, I think.' He inhaled deeply. 'I better calm down.'

"Humble as always," Keiko complimented yet again, making Kurama lightly sigh in embarrassment. The youko inside a human avatar gave the jovial Keiko a once-over. 'It's not in good form for me to get all flustered and some such. A dream is a dream, after all. Reality is what's before me now.'

"So modest-not at all like that idiot Yusuke," Keiko suddenly fumed in rage. Kurama sweatdropped, reflexively attempting to inch away from the irate girl. Since they were stuck in a moving vehicle, he instead attempted to change the subject.

"What about you? I didn't expect junior high students would have a later dismissal time than their seniors," Kurama wondered out loud.

Keiko looked flustered all of a sudden. "Oh. Well, my friends and I were planning to have an overnight study session for an upcoming test, but it was at my friend's house and dad only allowed me to stay there up until the afternoon, so-"

"I see," Kurama smilingly cut off. To himself, he thought, 'From her change of demeanor, I could see that she's hiding something. She's not carrying a bag for her study materials, and aside from her sweater, she's in complete uniform.' He shook his head solemnly. 'Oh well. I best not delve into such things. It's none of my business.'

Unfortunately, from then on, all conversation died between him and Keiko. 'Ah. There's an awkward silence between us. It's just as well. Do nothing, risk nothing.'

But as Kurama resolved himself to do just that, his thoughts typically and abruptly shifted. 'This atmosphere; it's almost the same as the atmosphere I felt in the dream. I know it's silly of me, but it feels like I betrayed her yet again. Betrayed her both in the dream and in reality.'

"Kurama-san?" Keiko inquired gently, piercing through the haze in Kurama's mind.

"Yes?" Kurama acknowledged, welcoming the refreshing break from his never-ending daze.

"I was wondering, where do you get off?" Keiko shyly asked.

"Uh, my stop is in Shimizu. Yours?"

"I-In Isesaki," Keiko replied, apparently and visibly deflated.

'Oh, that's right. Isesaki is two stops away from Shimizu,' Kurama belatedly thought. 'It'll probably take me double the normal time if I travel back and forth from the two districts. But there's this damnable silence again...'

Kurama looked at Keiko, her features unreadable. 'Ah, but what am I thinking? Our conversation halting right now has nothing to do with my inability to escort her back to her house. It's the simple fact that neither of us have anything in common that's put this barrier of silence between us.'

His mind fell into his earlier mental trap once again. 'The dream has nothing to do with anything; this conversation has nothing to do with anything,' he adamantly decided.

Kurama ate his words as the earlier vision of Keiko appeared again in his mind's eye, crying and mouthing the words that shook him into a grim realization.

"I hate you," the phantasm said, echoing the statements in his mind over and over again, mocking his resolve.

"The next station is Shimizu... Shimizu..." the PA system blared out loud, startling the contemplative Kurama.

"Kurama-san, that's your stop," Keiko reminded as she gently nudged the half-dreaming youko. She waved good-bye to him cheerfully. "See you again soon!"

Kurama's resolve crumbled like a sand castle beneath a tidal wave. "Keiko-san?"

"Yes? What is it?"

Kurama drew in an audible breath. "If you would allow... Can I escort you back to your house?"

* * *

So there they were... Kurama and Keiko... walking side-by-side in the quiet suburban streets filled with the occasional food shop and flea market as the sun tranquilly set, making room for the approaching twilight. Kurama, in both gallantry and embarrassment, placed himself a few steps behind Keiko, letting the girl go first.

'What am I doing? Is this really all right?' Kurama asked himself, sighing. He couldn't count anymore how many times had he asked himself those questions, but he didn't particularly care. He knew he was just rationalizing his own inexplicable actions, but he just couldn't help himself. This was his way of handling such incomprehensible situations-at least, incomprehensible to himself.

'I'm really going out of my way for Keiko,' Kurama furthered his contemplations, glancing from time to time at Keiko's back as they walked silently toward her residence. Even with the thick sweater, her slight, slim figure was still apparent. He shook his head off of such unclean thoughts.

'Am I doing this because of the silly dream? No, I should get a hold of myself. This is a favor between friends. There is no hidden agenda. I should know better than to second-guess myself.'

Kurama let his mind wander again, but this time it wasn't filled with peculiar daydreams nor an internal monologue. This time, it contained memories of the immediate past.

* * *

"B-But Kurama-san! Shimizu is far from Isesaki! It's almost two stops away! I couldn't possibly..." Keiko had sputtered during Kurama's unexpected request at the Shimizu train station. To which he replied, "It's all right. I can handle myself. Don't worry."

Kurama shrugged helplessly. "Besides, Yusuke would never forgive me if he ever learned that I allowed Keiko-san to go home by herself at night."

Keiko absently winced upon hearing Yusuke's name before exclaiming, "Ah! Yes, yes. It's already quarter to six in the evening." She wanly smiled as she gave Kurama an apologetic bow. "Thank you, Kurama-san."

* * *

Kurama exhaled deeply as his thoughts went back to the present. 'I'm glad that Keiko-san is now smiling. It was obvious that she was distraught over something.'

Keiko suddenly backed up a bit over his side. Kurama, for his part, gave the girl a token grin. 'Perhaps this is the true meaning of my dream of Keiko-san. I'm supposed to respond to her in her time of need, even if it's just by chaperoning her back to her house.'

Kurama nodded to himself eagerly, despite himself. 'The puzzle has been solved. There's nothing more to it than that.'

"What a wonderful coincidence this is... Right, Kurama-san?" Keiko sang, suddenly getting into a conversational mood. "Who would have thought that we'd have a chance like this to talk? I mean, what are the chances?"

'Huh. Chances. For a long, long time, I went about and lived my life by seizing the day and impulsively taking on any challenge that came into my path,' Kurama mused to himself. Kuronue's death, his expulsion from the Demon World, his reincarnation as a human boy; these were all serendipitous events that came looking for him, and weren't circumstances he actively sought. 'But I always took a chance even as I went with the flow of events. My choices were affected by opportunities presented to me.'

He blinked once as he became conscious of the fact that he hadn't answered Keiko's question. Realizing his unintended rudeness, he responded, "I don't believe in coincidence. It's either fate or destiny that governs our path."

"Ooooh. That sounded profound, Kurama-san!" Keiko appreciatively cooed.

Kurama looked sheepish as he fretted, "Oh! I must have said something weird again."

"Nonsense! It's not weird at all! I think you've presented a rather compelling argument," Keiko assured. "Hmmm. The genius Kurama-san has shared a piece of his age-old wisdom once again; I feel so honored. Who would have thought: Kurama-san, believing in fate?"

"But I only believe in fate to a certain degree," Kurama yielded a bit, finally giving in to Keiko's unsaid insistence for a conversation. "Fate can only take you so far. Circumstances only provide windows of opportunity. Upon getting there, the rest is up to you."

Kurama orated further for the sake of his appreciative, raptly attentive audience. "Ultimately, it's up to you how you're going to respond. I don't really rely on fate per se-especially on matters concerning destiny-since I believe _my_ destiny shouldn't be dictated by outside forces; not totally. It all boils down to willpower in the end."

Kurama checked out Keiko's reaction. "I'm not boring you, am I, Keiko-san?"

Keiko shook her head. "No. Actually, it was a very interesting treatise," she kidded, imitating Kurama's overzealous use of thesaurus words. "But for me, I think it's all very romantic."

Kurama's eyebrows shot up at Keiko's assessment.

"Whoever you end up with will be really lucky, Kurama-san. Hopeless romantics like you are one-of-a-kind," Keiko gleefully sassed, making Kurama feel a bit squeamish.

"Don't say such things, Keiko-san. It's so embarrassing," Kurama pleaded to the young girl.

"Oh, don't be so uptight," Keiko chided, playfully patting Kurama on the back. "How'd a good-looking guy like you end up girlfriendless anyway? Are you currently seeing anyone? Any crushes?"

'This conversation is getting silly,' Kurama reflected as he replied to Keiko, "No, not really."

Keiko nudged Kurama's ribs. "I bet lots of people want to be your girlfriend!"

Kurama couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "'People,' Keiko-san?" To that, Keiko chortled unabashedly.

"Aw, c'mon! Not even a single one? Don't say that you haven't dated anyone! Or there wasn't at least one girl that you had a mutual understanding with? Heck, was there any female you were close with other than your mother? There has to be!" Keiko prodded. "C'mon, WHAT WAS HER NAME?"

Kurama suddenly stopped walking, taking in a grim demeanor. Keiko, in her part, shifted from a mischievous mood to an apologetic one as she realized that she must have gone too far. "I'm sorry, Kurama-san. Have I said something wrong? Are you angry?"

"Her name was Kitajima Maya-san."

The statement was said so softly that Keiko thought she was just hearing things. "What was that again?"

Kurama gave her a sidelong glance, a melancholic look on his face. "I said her name was Maya-san. She wasn't really a... girlfriend in the traditional sense, but she was the girl I was closest to. We used to walk back home together just like this."

Nostalgia began to fill Kurama's contemplative mind as his tone became as distant as his gaze. "Maya-san was a very well-mannered, gentle girl. She's also very intelligent, even though her accommodating nature made it seem otherwise. No offense to her, of course."

Keiko stifled a chuckle the best she could as she daintily covered her mouth. "Wow. Kurama-san. This girl sounds so much like you!" She then stopped giggling, realizing that her little joke didn't sound very funny after all. "Excuse me. Please excuse my rudeness."

Kurama gave Keiko his all-too-familiar sidelong glance again, saying, "Actually, it's Keiko-san and Maya-san that seem kind of alike." He smiled a bit as he looked away. 'Ah. The silence between us has returned. But it's less uncomfortable than before.'

Kurama furrowed his eyebrows in remembrance. 'Actually, it's more like my usual silence around Maya-san as I walked her back home, during that time in junior high.'

* * *

They were in Kurama's mind again; echoes. They were echoes of the past. "Shuichi-san is always so quiet. But I guess it's just as well-I barely know anything about you. Still, you can surprise me at times. It makes me want to know you even more."

Those were echoes of the past that somehow merged with the voices of the present.

"Who are you really?" Keiko and Maya seemed to say in unison in Kurama's complicated imaginings. 'It's funny to note that Maya-san and Keiko-san would ask the same question in the same half-joking tone of voice-the same question which I myself have been trying to answer ever since my arrival here in the Human World.'

* * *

'But what am I thinking? Honestly, comparing Maya-san to Keiko-san...' Kurama digressed. 'And this conversation... Isn't this getting out of hand as well?'

'Nonsense. Keiko-san has gone through a rough day. If it takes sharing each other's love life to cheer her up, then so be it. I shouldn't let the silliness of innuendo get the better of my reasoning-such a petty reason shouldn't be given a second thought.'

"I'm sorry that I've egged you on about your love life. I should've minded my own business," Keiko regretfully apologized, though her tone wasn't as regretful or apologetic as she wanted it to sound.

"No, I don't mind." Kurama himself suddenly went into a mischievous mood, stating, "But fair's fair. Now it's _your_ turn to share."

Keiko blushed deeply, the preoccupied look Kurama saw on her face earlier finally returning. "Eh? Is that so?" She laughed stiltedly as she avoided Kurama's direct gaze.

'A forced laugh?' Kurama almost automatically analyzed. 'I don't suppose that Yusuke could've...? But it's not my place to pry.' To Keiko, he remarked, "Just kidding, Keiko-san."

Keiko breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that. Then she made a face, sticking her tongue out at Kurama. "I thought you were nicer than that, you meanie!"

Kurama subsequently saw Keiko suddenly sit down on a bench on a nearby park. "What is it, Keiko-san? Are you tired?"

"Uh... yeah. Why don't we sit down for a while?" Keiko offered, beaming a welcoming smile on her face.

"It's kind of getting dark, Keiko-san," Kurama warned, worried. 'I still have school tomorrow,' he rationalized to himself as he quelled his rising dread.

"It will only take a minute." Her smile and her demeanor might not have made it apparent, but the undertones of her voice had an insistence in it that compelled Kurama to take her up on her offer.

She suddenly took a deep interest in her shoelaces as she gazed intensely into them. "Kurama-san... I'm kind of glad that we've somehow... opened up to each other. We never got to talk like this."

"Well, I guess circumstances and certain events had made it nearly impossible until now. It couldn't be helped."

"I mean, Yusuke and I could never talk like this. We never had a conversation like this... Never ever," Keiko continued, her eyes shimmering.

'Ah, so it was about Yusuke! That's the reason why Keiko-san was so depressed and downtrodden when we met at the train station.' Kurama began a train of thought that could only be described as unusual for him.

'Is the dream I had slowly turning to reality?' Kurama quietly deliberated in his head. 'The deserted island meaning isolation? Keiko's fake death meaning change? Keiko's dream... the dream within my dream... the dream where we shared a... No. Enough. That's enough.'

For the umpteenth time, Kurama berated himself. 'I should get a hold of myself. This is serious. Keiko-san is going through a crisis. This isn't the time to entertain silly notions.' He winced at his own redundancy.

"Kurama-san?"

Kurama turned quickly over Keiko's direction. "Yes?"

Keiko took a deep breath, seemingly bracing herself for something. "What I said about staying over a friend's house for a bit... It isn't exactly true." Keiko's eyes darted back and forth, away from Kurama's gaze. The redhead was all ears as he nodded for Keiko to continue.

"Actually, I was just talking to our school principal. I knew it was foolish of me, but-" She tried to smile, but the tears slowly collected in her eyes, breaking her mask of cheerfulness. "But I spoke to Takenaka-koucho-sensei about Yusuke's grades. After much pleading, he was willing to work things out."

Keiko bit her lip as she sniffled a bit. "But Yusuke wouldn't even hear of it."

Kurama nodded consolingly, not knowing what else he should do in the situation.

"He insisted that he didn't really need it-that I was becoming too controlling, too suffocating f-for him..." Keiko stammered. "S-So I told him... I told him... to drop dead."

She let go then and there as she bawled her heart out, burying her face in her hands in complete humiliation and mortification.

Kurama, for good or for ill, couldn't take it anymore.

* * *

'I didn't know what I was thinking at the time. Perhaps it was the simple fact that I wasn't thinking that prodded me to act the way I did.

'Hmmm. Me, not thinking. It was an altogether alien concept in and of itself. To delve deeper into the juvenile notion, I couldn't even begin to grasp it.

'Juvenile. It wasn't even really poetic. The whole situation was more akin to a silly pun, really. I couldn't grasp the situation, so I grasped the girl. I held her in a tight embrace, abandoning all hesitation; all uncertainty; all reason and logic.

'My heart was beating so fast, and it seemed that my breath was trying to catch up with it.

'I kept asking myself: Would I get rejected? Would my actions get misconstrued? On the other hand, how could she misconstrue an act that I myself had no idea how to 'construe' in the first place?

'I didn't know what I was doing and why I was doing this.

'Did I really want to know? Did I really want to find out?

'This moment of peace after such a long time of emptiness; it was very refreshing... welcoming. Let me remain like this for now. Did hell await me? Did heaven await me? The next second should let me know-but I didn't want that second to pass. Not now; not ever.

'Please let these last few seconds freeze in time forever. Please don't let another second pass. That's my wordless plea.

'Please don't let this world continue. Let it be just as it is right now-just as it is.'

* * *

Time flowed again as seconds ticked by; the moment of comfort was followed by a moment of awkwardness. Seconds insistently ticked as it woke up the unwilling-he who did not wish to let go-making apparent the frightening reality which he didn't want to acknowledge.

Heaven or hell: Was it heaven or hell before him now that he let his once-chained emotions overrun him? Because this time, all thoughts failed him. Logic failed him. All he was faced with now was his wants, his dreams; what he felt, not what he was supposed to feel; what he desired, not what he thought he needed.

But unfortunately, as great and elusive a thief he once was, even he could not escape the insistency of time. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, so he'd remember the scent. He gently touched the soft strands of her hair, so he'd remember the texture. He looked into her wide, hazel eyes one last time so that he'd never forget this moment.

Let this one moment be etched into his memory for all of eternity.

* * *

Time flowed again as seconds ticked by; the moment of comfort was followed by a moment of awkwardness. Seconds insistently ticked as it woke up the unwilling-he who did not wish to let go-making apparent the frightening reality which he didn't want to acknowledge.

Heaven or hell: Was it heaven or hell before him now that he let his once-chained emotions overrun him? Because this time, all thoughts failed him. Logic failed him. All he was faced with now was his wants, his dreams; what he felt, not what he was supposed to feel; what he desired, not what he thought he needed.

But unfortunately, as great and elusive a thief he once was, even he could not escape the insistency of time. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, so he'd remember the scent. He gently touched the soft strands of her hair, so he'd remember the texture. He looked into her wide, hazel eyes one last time so that he'd never forget this moment.

Let this one moment be etched into his memory for all of eternity.

* * *

Kurama took in deep and controlled breaths. He shook his hands all around. He counted from one to ten. After doing all these relaxation activities, he decided that this inanity must stop. After all, his human shell had already outgrown those silly children's shows on television.

He carefully gathered his thoughts-unwillingly, as his gut feeling screamed at him not to-but Kurama wouldn't be Kurama if he abandoned his mental deliberations altogether.

First there were the immediate problems: He needed to do an important research homework about the Bakumatsu. Then there was his much-needed trip to the Demon World to refresh his supply of demon seeds and plants. Then there was this thing about him having confusing feelings for Keiko... Yes, he had a very busy itinerary as of now.

He mentally cleared away the excess, unnecessary considerations within his psyche as he appropriated the proper issue he dreadfully needed to address. A question surfaced in his turbulent mind; asked a dozen times or more already, but still bearing great significance in his current debacles.

'Why did I do that? What possessed me to do that?' he reproached himself again, irritated that his inner voice was beginning to sound like a broken record. To address that feeling, he resolved to answer those repetitious questions instead of going around in circles mentioning them time and time again.

But he soon found out that those cyclical inquiries weren't only redundant... they were rhetorical. 'Rhetorical... or simply unanswerable?' Kurama debated to himself, noting that his latest query was probably rhetorical in and of itself.

'No... I always do this. When there's something I don't want to address, I analyze it to death until the original subject... the original topic I wanted to discuss... is buried under piles and piles of psychoanalytic jargon and philosophical drivel. Analysis for analysis's sake; I'm even doing it right now, with this train of thought! I have to concentrate. I have to _not_ let my mind wander.'

He emptied his head of the clutter of thoughts he inflicted upon himself, remembering the flashing lights zooming away into a kaleidoscope of colors from his view of the train's window as he went home. He became a pseudo-Zen master as he let all redundancies, all his over-analytical theories, dissipate into nothingness, finally enabling him to sift the truth from his troubled mind.

He had let his human emotions get the better of him again. That was the simple truth.

Whether or not he would truly consider these emotions as part of him was wholly up to him. He did not have a ready answer for that decision as of yet.

'My human emotions?' Kurama wondered in awe as he held his hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat race. He dared not delve any further, lest he overanalyzed the situation yet again, so he just left it at that.

'Well then,' Kurama started, bracing himself resolutely, 'as Yusuke would say, 'Time to bite the bullet.''

With that last thought, sleep took over Kurama's awareness as he maintained an underlying determination to make sure things would be different this time around. He had a lot of issues to address, so he had to know if he was contemplating the right matters.

* * *

The next time Kurama opened his eyes, colored spectacles greeted them as he felt his body walking in a moist, dank tropical forest-apparently on its own volition-while making involuntary clicking sounds with his mouth as if he was exasperated or something.

'I see. I've returned to the dream, continuing where I left off,' he thought in chagrin.

"What an irritating girl, running off like that," Kurama's fantasy self grumbled in annoyance as he adjusted his polarized eyeglasses. "There was no need for her to do that. She's just being overbearing and sensitive. I can't believe I'm stuck with her indefinitely in this deserted island."

'It seems that I'm really angry in this dream,' Kurama thought coolly as he noted that his dream self acted horribly out-of-character from his true self. 'As if this was a different story, a different time-with totally different characters, even though we share the same bodies and names.'

"Keiko! Hey, you silly girl! Get back here!" Kurama demanded as he searched through the twisting and twirling paths of the jungle. "Listen to reason! We're going to get stuck here in this island for a while, so there's no need to fight."

'On the other hand, this Kurama seems more like my cool and aloof self whenever I fight seriously. He's more of the no-nonsense, stoic-type then-a little like my youko self, and a lot like Hiei,' Kurama reckoned as he felt impatience build upon himself, or at least in his dream self. 'But still, this Kurama has not yet apologized to Keiko-san, which is just not right.'

"Humph. Fine. If that's the way you want it, then I'll have nothing more to do with you!" the dream Kurama said as he left in a huff, walking back briskly to the shore and to the palm tree where he was quietly perched before that troublesome little girl bothered him.

'I hate to say this, but this dream is getting nowhere fast,' Kurama thought forlornly. 'Other than the obvious fact that it hasn't revealed to me any insights concerning my mind and the recent events that... unfolded, it's just recurring, but mostly meaningless. It makes me wonder if dreams really are the windows of the soul.'

He stopped his mental rant at mid-thought as his surroundings abruptly shifted, along with his current point of view.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Shuichi's honesty, Kurama's earnestness.

Credit for the story being described here goes to Chiho Saito's (Yes, Utena and Kanon's Chiho Saito) oneshot manga whose title I cannot decipher because I cannot read Japanese (yes, I have the actual manga, published in the 'Pockette' collection). ^^; I'm sure you can guess where I got fangirl Chiho's name from. ;)

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	8. Chapter 7: Sakura

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please. I'm very poor.

Chapter seven… Lucky, lucky seven…

* * *

**Chapter 7: Sakura**

* * *

'This is... Keiko-san?' Kurama thought; had he said the words, he would have sputtered. Memories of last night threatened to overwhelm his present imaginings; memories of a tight embrace, of a forbidden warmth, of an unsaid willingness to kiss-

'Not now, not now! I can't handle all of that right now.' He focused his semi-transient thoughts back to the young girl. 'This is important. This... dream is somehow affecting my thoughts and my feelings. I have to make clear what's real and what's merely induced by this peculiar fantasy.' The image of Keiko in his mind's eye soon became clear and sharp.

'It seems that I'm looking at Keiko through a third person point of view,' Kurama noted, observing the teenaged girl's melancholic state.

'I hate this place,' Keiko thought sullenly, startling the disembodied Kurama.

'I can even hear her think! Apparently, this is the third person _ omniscient_ point of view,' Kurama amazedly thought to himself before sighing and berating, 'This isn't the time for this. Though... I kind of feel guilty, peeking through Keiko-san's thoughts like this. Please forgive me, Keiko-san.'

Keiko turned and faced Kurama's general, albeit theoretical, direction. Angry eyes were glaring holes upon the supposedly invisible specter as the young woman shouted, "KURAMA, YOU JACKASS!"

Kurama recoiled from shock, forgetting that he was incorporeal. Just as he began to question his etherealness as he stared back at those fiery, passionate, and lovely eyes, he blinked. 'My mind's wandering again. Besides, she's probably just cursing her luck... and me. My other self, to be exact,' he rationalized as he breathed a sigh of relief.

'Why does Kurama have to be so insensitive? That's the last thing I need after barely surviving a helicopter crash,' Keiko thought as she wandered aimlessly in the rain forest, consciously wiping the mud off of her left shoe on one of the exposed, tentacle-like roots protruding from the ground. 'I was lucky to be alive! To think, after such a traumatizing experience, that idiot had the audacity to traumatize me some more? The nerve!'

'Hmm... So this dream isn't totally based on reality as I know it,' Kurama supposed, remembering the little fact that neither the Urameshi nor the Yukimura family could ever afford to own a helicopter.

Kurama's psyche tensed, listening and carefully examining every unsaid thought Keiko bad. 'But I have no memories of such a story... not from any of the books I've read, from the television shows I've watched, or the movies I've seen. What's going on?'

Keiko looked contemplative as she thought, 'To think, Yusuke and I were already engaged.'

Kurama felt like he went in shock, but then thought the better of it once he remembered that he didn't really 'exist' in this dream world-not in the traditional sense, anyway. It was all in his head.

Keiko sighed as she began speaking to herself again. "Boy, I'm getting hungry." She brightened as she spied a succulent-looking fruit hanging from a nearby tree branch. Kurama, for a change, merely watched her in rapt attention and silence, not one stray idea nor meandering thought present in his mind.

A loud splat was heard as Keiko suddenly got a face-full of overripe fruit. Kurama sweatdropped. He didn't particularly care how; he just did.

Adding insult to injury, a pair of birds suddenly noticed the mush of food on Keiko's face. Thusly, they began chasing her, along with their flock of friends.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Keiko shrieked, panicking as she ran away from the hideous birds. 'Are these birds of paradise? More like birds from hell!' She flayed her arms wildly, screaming, "Help me! Somebody! Anybody! HELP!"

That was when Kurama's consciousness merged with his dream self with only one thought in mind.

'Keiko needs my help,' the dream Kurama thought, not realizing his unknown alter ego echoed the very same sentiments.

* * *

"Th-Thank you," Keiko begrudgingly said as she wiped off the fruit cocktail on her face with a spare handkerchief. "I didn't realize that you could actually _not_ be an jackass, Kurama."

Kurama whooped for joy, startling Keiko. "I should be thanking you! Hoo-boy... Look at these babies!" he said, grinning as he hefted the large birds he caught. "By acting as bird bait, you've gotten us a veritable feast tonight! Thanks a lot!"

Keiko raised an eyebrow in irritation, her left eye twitching. 'So much for Mr. Sensitivity,' she reckoned. "You actually want me to eat those birds of paradise...?"

"Eh?" Kurama mumbled, looking startled. He afterwards laughed heartily. "AHAHAHAHA! You thought that these large, overstuffed birds are birds of paradise? Sure they are... if they're radiation mutants of some sort. AHAHAHA-" Kurama suddenly got a face-full of 'radiation mutant bird of paradise.'

"There are times when you just have to shut up, Kurama-san. This is one of those times," Keiko resolutely shot back, nodding to herself. "Enjoy your poultry for all I care!"

"Poultry is a term used for eggs, not for birds-HEY! OW!" Kurama hopped on one foot as Keiko stomped away, fuming. "Hey. You're not going into that jungle again in a huff, are you?"

"I spotted a waterfall somewhere in there. I'm going to take a bath." She glared threateningly at Kurama. "No funny business, or I'll make you wish you drowned at sea."

Kurama gave her a look of skepticism. "Suuuure I will," he deadpanned.

She quickly turned around, letting out a frustrated grunt as she stalked away from Kurama the Jackass. "It's settled, then. You _are_ worse than Yusuke!"

Kurama sighed, shaking his head. "To be stuck with that screaming banshee is hell in and of itself. Heaven help us all."

'Well, at least they're talking,' the 'real' Kurama thought as he observed the 'couple' from the dream Kurama's vantage point. He then suddenly felt his consciousness slip into another scene... another situation... another circumstance from a different time.

* * *

"It's getting late. It's nearly twilight," Kurama noted to himself as he took a large bite into the drumstick of a recently roasted bird.

'I see. So my consciousness shifted the scene a few hours later,' Kurama observed, captivated. 'It's like I'm watching an art film, with experimental POV shifts and the use of the 'stream of consciousness' method in its storytelling.'

The bespectacled Kurama gnawed at the bone fervently as he tried to ignore the feeling of worry building up in his gut. "Three hours is an awfully long time to take a bath. It's getting quite dark too."

He raised his voice again for Keiko's sake. "Hey, I don't know much about these tropical islands, but I've heard that they have rabid vampire bats that come out at night. You can't exactly get rabies shots in the middle of nowhere, y'know."

Kurama mentally smirked. 'Well now. Who would have thought that this Kurama could be this sweet?' Unbidden, his consciousness became more subdued as he remembered the awkward yet intimate moment he shared with Keiko. 'I guess I could only say so much with only a bit of discomfort, since I don't consider the Keiko of this dream as the Keiko I know, from what I've seen so far.'

The dream Kurama suddenly remembered Keiko's cry from earlier, compelling him to action. "Stupid woman."

'But this Kurama-for good or for ill-is a nice guy after all,' the real Kurama thought, amused with 'himself.'

* * *

Kurama slowly entered the now-familiar jungle. He faintly remembered where the waterfall was. He had been awake and island-exploring hours before Keiko awoke. All he had to do now was find the waterfall, the waterfall where... Keiko was bathing right now.

Boy, did Kurama feel sheepish-the both of them.

Kurama gulped, his thoughts coinciding with the thoughts of his otherworldly alter ego. 'Three hours bathing? That's silly and vain.' The bespectacled boy furrowed his brows in concern. 'Sounds a lot like Keiko, though.' Something was bothering the island-lost young man, and his half-youko counterpart did not fail to notice this.

'Not to sound too analytical, but...' the former Demon World thief thought as he observed his fantasy self, 'all this is obviously some sort of depraved setup to romantically link this Kurama and that Keiko together. Why, I predict that, at this very instant, this Kurama will whirl his head to see a completely naked Keiko, thus adding to the conflict!'

As if on cue, a scream suddenly echoed from behind the rushing stream of descending water, a flesh-colored silhouette seen from its transparent veil.

Reflexively, Kurama whirled his head towards the said silhouette.

'Predictable,' the true Kurama dolefully noted.

Embarrassed, Kurama looked away, muttering a haphazard apology. Unfortunately, the opposite direction he dolefully whirled his head to showed him a completely naked Keiko; the smooth-skinned, slender-built, bare-bottomed Keiko.

'...' the true Kurama listlessly thought.

The fantasy Kurama looked back and forth at Keiko's reflection on the streaming water and Keiko herself in her 'full glory' in total and complete shock. The sleeping Kurama's consciousness, on the other hand, was glad that he was just that-a sleeping consciousness. Said consciousness idly wondered what it would be like to be unconscious in a dream-to be unconscious while unconscious-as he desperately tried to ignore the promise of pain in Keiko's eyes.

Kurama's eyebrows shot up in surprise as his arms began to windmill in a futile effort to regain his balance. The slippery rock stubbornly held its ground as he unwittingly tripped on it, painfully chipping away part of his toenail off of his bare left foot. That was when he noticed that he was on a shallow cliff at the _uppermost_ part of the waterfall.

So Kurama unceremoniously fell, his alter ego's consciousness finally getting a chance to discover what was it like to be unconscious while unconscious.

* * *

"I owe you a slap," was what greeted Kurama out of his stupor. Or rather that was what greeted Kurama's dream self out of his stupor. 'Oh great. I just woke up _in_ my dream, not from my dream.'

"It was an accident, okay?" the imaginary Kurama said as he surveyed his immediate surroundings, his head throbbing with a painful headache. Apparently, he was lying in some sort of makeshift bed made out of palm leaves. They kind of itched, but there were more important things that had to be cleared. "It's not as if I _intended_ to sneak a peek at you. I won't ever do that to you; not intentionally, at least."

Keiko gave him a surprised look, a light blush on her cheeks. It made Kurama feel a bit uncomfortable, for some inexplicable reason. In order to diffuse the situation, he smirked a little as he cruelly added, "Flat chest."

Keiko simply fumed. "Everything is just a big joke to you, isn't it?" she none-too-gently accused. "I wish you'd drowned at sea. Or got decapitated by the rotors of the helicopter. Anything; just as long as you're dead."

Kurama wanted to retort to that, but the words died in his lips as he turned to gaze at the irate Keiko. It wasn't tears. It wasn't a look of irritation. It was just a listless, numb stare. It was as if...

The Kurama visualizing this dream figuratively shot his eyebrows up as he heard his dream self's thoughts.

'It's as if I'm dead to her,' the fantasy Kurama thought sullenly. 'It's as if she's dead to the world.'

'You've crossed the line,' the real Kurama agreed, startling the abstract Kurama.

'I don't need lectures from the voice in my head, so shut up!'

The true Kurama allegorically blinked. 'So he heard me that time?'

Kurama suddenly shifted to the side, fully facing the prone Keiko. His eyes were clear and cloudless as he addressed the auburn-haired girl. "I'm sorry." It seemed like a genuine, heartfelt apology this time.

"You say it as if you mean it, but what's to stop you from doing another one-eighty? All you ever do is insult everything I do and make fun of everything I say. Do you hate me that much? You were much nicer before. You were quiet and definitely not this... this... mean!" Keiko ranted as she gave Kurama a forthright glare. "You're sorry? No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've ever met you!"

Kurama felt it; a twinge of pain in the dream Kurama's heart. He felt sorry for him. Other than the reaction he had from the hurtful words, there was also the unmistakable inner turmoil boiling inside the fantasy boy. Was it a struggle with the truth? The real Kurama couldn't tell.

'He was much nicer than before? What happened?' the genuine Kurama deliberated.

The island-lost Kurama suddenly pointed at his cheek. "Fine then. Slap me." Keiko happily obliged.

Kurama rubbed his cheek, a perfect red handprint occupying half of his face. "Slap me again."

Keiko wasn't really sadistic per se, but the red-haired boy did ask for it. Besides, she was already too pissed off to be appeased by a couple of overlapping handprints. "I sort of forgive you now. But what was with the second slap?"

"It was a slap in advance for this," Kurama said as he suddenly kissed her. From there, their whole world suddenly blurred into inconsequence.

* * *

Kurama-the real, unconscious one-went silent for the second time ever since the entire 'dream sequence' began, raptly watching what was happening before him, morbidly fascinated.

Perhaps 'fascinated' wasn't the right word.

Breathless sighs were murmured as bodies writhed under a starless night. Thoughts were disregarded as things were simplified in a burst of passion. What one wanted was to make the other feel the same amount of wondrous delight; that was the important thing.

They kissed in uninhibited ardor. Keiko curved her hand around Kurama's nape, kissing him with unrestrained fervor. She kissed him the same way he had kissed her, an urgent fire in her mouth as she insistently parted the crease between his lips, urging them apart and then driving inside a kiss that made him gasp inside her mouth.

The surge of tenderness Kurama felt for the innocent temptress with the melting eyes at that moment was let loose by a forlorn sigh-a sigh signifying a sinful passion realized. He stared down at her, feeling humbled by her sweet, selfless giving. She closed her eyes, burying her heated face against his chest while his fingers gently stroked the soft, silky strands of her chestnut hair.

Keiko was the first one to speak, her voice a bit muffled because of her awkward position as she cuddled closer to Kurama. "Why did you change so much, Kurama-san?" she asked in soft, whispered tones as she felt a brief change of pattern in the rise and fall of Kurama's chest.

It took a while before Kurama finally spoke. "Maybe because I was trying too hard to become like Yusuke."

The real Kurama raised an eyebrow at this. He wanted to note that this was probably the dream's main plot twist, but he realized that he was digressing. So he opted to keep silent for a while longer, for the disturbed feeling he felt earlier still hadn't left.

"Are you still sorry you've ever met me?" the castaway Kurama asked in a deadpanned tone. A minute of silence met his query.

"Never," Keiko admitted. "Those were just words I said: 'I'm sorry to have ever met you.' But I don't know. After what happened right now, I might as well change my mind." Keiko gripped Kurama's back tightly. "I'm not sure if I could hate you now. I should, but I don't know if I could."

Before the damnable swathe of reticence covered them in further doubt, the imaginary Kurama furthered his admissions, stating, "My life changed when you got engaged to Yusuke, Keiko-san. I felt uncomfortable. I put up various emotional walls, but I couldn't handle them in the end."

The real Kurama was yet again experiencing that disturbed feeling in his gut. Something was 'off' about this dream. It was as if circumstances were being forcibly controlled in some sort of involuntary pattern that had to be executed in an exacting and straightforward manner.

Keiko stirred awkwardly, as if it would have been better for her if he had said that this night was a one night thing. If he had said that he only used her body for his base desires. She didn't want to hear any of this. This was getting too complicated; too confusing. Was it too much to ask for them to go back to the way they were?

"I lost the ring when we dived into the sea just as the helicopter crashed. Apparently, my sanity went along with it as well, seeing the position we're in now," she chuckled humorlessly, too tired to cry. Actually, she felt too guilty to cry, remorse weighing heavily upon her shoulders.

Kurama squeezed her hand encouragingly, kissing it. "Nothing else matters except this moment in time. Whatever will be, will be." Keiko looked contemplative for a moment before she responded. "What now, Kurama-san? What now?"

"You may want to ask, 'Does hell await us? Does heaven await us?' The next second should let us know, but-" He gripped her hand tightly as he gave her a sad smile.

"I don't want that second to pass. Not now, not ever." Keiko smiled in kind; a smile that was just as melancholic as Kurama's, or maybe even more so.

Only after the dream Kurama closed his eyes in resignation to his fate did the real Kurama's eyes flutter into awareness.

* * *

'I don't understand. I don't understand at all,' Kurama deliberated as he sat silently on his bed. 'That weird dream hasn't answered any of my questions.'

'Or perhaps it just showed you answers you didn't like.'

Kurama wondered if it was his dream self who thought that in the same accidental way the youko had while 'spying' on his own dream. But, for good or for ill, it was a valid point nonetheless.

The dream did show answers he didn't like; answers that didn't logically coincide with any of his previous beliefs; a response that he didn't want. Something about it just didn't seem right. He dared not acknowledge it, but since the dream was 'staring' right back at him, glaring at him right in the eye, he just couldn't afford to wince.

'So what my dream was saying is that I should get Keiko to cheat on Yusuke with me? Preposterous! Does it have a straightforward, literal meaning? Surrender to the urge within? To be like...' His thoughts trailed off again, as it had a tendency to do so.

He still remembered the phrase that his dream self had said as he continued his train of thought. 'To be like Yusuke.'

The youko frowned anxiously, as though he were in the middle of a life-or-death battle, with his mother being the 'life-or-death' part of the equation, her very existence hanging in the balance. Then, from out of the blue, a very important and relevant question popped in Kurama's head.

'So how will the story end? Will Kurama and Keiko get rescued? Will Yusuke kill Kurama in a murderous frenzy? Will Keiko get hurt?' There were a hundred possibilities, but not one did anything to appease the unsettling feeling Kurama had in the pit of his stomach.

'Will the story end happily? Tragically? Typically?' Kurama narrowed his eyes. 'Or will the story never end? What is the true ending of the story?'

* * *

"After making sweet, passionate love while being so angst-ridden about it, the two lovers were suddenly attacked by the people who sabotaged their helicopter in the first place, with the intention of finishing the dreadful task. Shu-chan then kicked their collective asses, enabling the couple to steal one of the terrorists' speed boats. But, alas, they were caught up in the crossfire and poor Shu-chan was hurt! The girl was devastated, but, lo and behold-look who was there with the coast guard: Her fiancé!" Yumiko blushed, her long sideburns swinging to and fro from her excitement.

Chiho Sasae looked at her friend with half-lidded eyes and blatant skepticism as she let her painted nails dry. The impassive girl yawned unabashedly, irking Yumiko to no end. "I didn't believe it was possible for you to bore me even more than usual, but again you've proved me wrong."

"Would you just listen? I'm relating some personal stuff here!" Yumiko hissed as Chiho raised an eyebrow. The daydreaming girl's glare was intense enough to cut off any further contentions as Chiho shrugged in hopeless resignation. Yumiko continued her story.

"Back at their house, the girl, after being rescued, had a heart-to-heart talk with her beloved. She couldn't bring herself to tell him about her betrayal, but the jerk didn't seem too worried anyway. That was when she discovered that her fiancé was in the arms of another woman all this time! The woman that happened to be Shu-chan's fiancée!"

"Well, isn't that convenient for the little whore?"

"Shut up, will you?" Yumiko coughed once. "Anyway, the girl made her decision then and there. She went to Shu-chan's lodgings near the docks... and..." the girl trailed off; she couldn't contain her excitement any longer.

"Let me guess. The girl and 'Shu-chan' lived happily ever after," Chiho said in saccharine tones, swooning in an unconvincing manner. "Hello? Can you say 'contrived'? That has got to be one of the worst, if not _the_ worst story I have ever heard."

"Yeah, well, for your information, it was a very vivid dream I was having!" Yumiko whined indignantly.

"You didn't dream those last two scenes," Chiho reminded as she checked out her pink, polished nails. "You're so weird you actually have a _script_ for your dreams! Besides, what's the point in dreaming of something if you already know the ending?"

"Already knowing the ending doesn't necessarily ruin the story!" Yumiko adamantly insisted as she began leafing through one of her many collections of girl comic pocketbooks. "Actually, I think it's kind of romantic. Think about it! Predestined lovers! It's through unchangeable fate that they'll be together, whatever the circumstances! I think it's great!"

"Well, I think it's unrealistic and totally improbable. C'mon, real life romances don't work out that way," Chiho reasoned skeptically as she admired herself on the mirror. "Yumi-chan, I've said this before, and you know I'll say it again-" Yumiko rolled her eyes.

"Get your head out of the clouds," both of the females chorused in tones dripping of mocking disdain.

Chiho wagged her finger; a trademark mannerism on her part. "If you already know what I was going to say and still do things your way, then there's no point in arguing with you."

"At last! Something we can both agree on," Yumiko sardonically shot back.

"Dear, you have many strong points. Sarcasm isn't one of them," Chiho retorted in kind. "What do you see in those silly romantic stories anyway? Romance is boring." She then curved her lips into a smile. "So much better yaoi. _Yaoi, yaoi, yaoi._"

Yumiko recoiled in disgust. "Now don't you start with that yaoi fixation of yours! Ew! Why do you have such a morbid fascination with gay men anyway? To think, you'd pair up my Shu-chan with some of our _male_ classmates. That's just weird. _You_ should be getting _your_ head out of the gutter."

Chiho smirked impishly. "To each her own, I guess."

Yumiko ignored her friend's disturbing grin as she put her head into the clouds again. 'I don't see what's wrong with being predestined lovers. Fate is a romantic thing. If your love was meant to be, then nothing should stand in its way, right?'

* * *

Keiko walked silently in the darkness of the park, looking intently at the ground. Crossing her arms for warmth as the chilly remnants of the winter solstice tousled her hair, she shyly observed the bench she sat on yesterday. She pouted.

'So he didn't come here after all,' she thought dolefully before she caught herself. 'Ah. Why am I thinking such weird things? I just came over here to thank him, that's all.' She looked at the time. It was seven o'clock. She briefly wondered if her parents had noticed her slip out of the house before quelling that thought as well.

'He wasn't at the station either, but considering that we have different schedules-' she trailed off uncertainly as she sat down for a bit on the wooden bench. 'I didn't even really want to see him after last night.'

She slowly got up after hearing the crickets begin to chirp. 'I have to remind myself that our accidental rendezvous was only a one-time thing. Shimizu is too far away from Isesaki. I have to be realistic.' Her eyes became determined. 'Well, he's obviously not here, so that's one bridge that I don't have to cross.'

"Keiko-san?" a voice softly inquired.

After her initial shock, Keiko couldn't even bring herself to turn around.

* * *

"We have to talk," Kurama said as he made his way towards Keiko, his eyes clear and unclouded.

There was a pause.

"K-Kurama-san! I didn't expect you to be here!" Keiko admitted as she gave him a beaming smile. She then looked at him with pensive eyes as her heart began to race.

Kurama certainly looked breathtaking, with the way the mellow light highlighted his rose-red hair, his emerald eyes shimmering. He seemed so cool, so... perfect.

Keiko shook her head, remembering the things she had deliberated in school. 'My heart is ready. I have to straighten things out with Kurama once and for all.' To Kurama, she cheerfully asked, "What brings you here?"

Words failed Kurama as he stumbled with what he was going to say. Where was he going to start? Neither of them was willing to acknowledge what happened last night, but what _did_ happen last night? Even after he overanalyzed his dream in a semiconscious state, he still couldn't figure out its meaning; its purpose.

'Or perhaps it just showed you answers you didn't like,' a specter in his mind repeated mockingly.

Emotions. feelings. They listened to neither reason nor rhyme. When they decided to feel something, they just did. There were no pretensions but plenty of contradictions. Emotions were brutally frank and honest with who and what they were. Kurama was beginning to see it as such. It would be a losing battle to analyze one's emotions.

"I..." both chorused, turning away in embarrassment afterwards.

"You first," Kurama offered.

Keiko shook her head. "I want to hear what you want to say first. I insist."

Kurama took a deep breath as he braced himself. Emotions were brutally honest. So perhaps that was what he was supposed to do; be honest.

But how could he be honest about feelings he had no idea what to make of? He was a man of few words but much contemplation. However, if contemplation failed him, would words follow? He certainly didn't want to give Keiko lip service, so he had to... 'Be honest.'

"I got confused," Kurama simply offered, rubbing the back of his head. "I didn't know what I wanted. I've... been having these weird dreams that I cannot interpret. These dreams messed with my own feelings and emotions. It messed with what I interpreted as real or not."

Keiko nodded for Kurama to continue, hanging on to every word he said, trying her best to grasp what he was trying to say. The kitsune closed his eyes briefly, as if in deep meditation.

"To be frank, I still don't know whether or not these dreams are a reflection of a deep-seated desire inside me." Kurama unconsciously licked his lips as the imaginary feel of Keiko's own lips came back to haunt his mind. "I never thought that these sorts of feelings existed within me. It was like I was discovering a side of me I never realized was there. I have to admit that this scares even the supposedly cool and aloof Youko Kurama."

Kurama exhales a deep, contemplative breath as he confessed, "This only happened to me once before."

"Maya," Keiko concluded, echoing Kurama's thoughts.

Kurama nodded curtly. "I didn't break up with her, but when the time came when she-confessed her feelings to me, trouble struck. I became afraid. Afraid for her and afraid of my own feelings. I couldn't let her in. I never gave her a chance."

"That sounds so harsh," Keiko blurted out unthinkingly before balking, "I-I'm sorry for nosing-in on your business, Kurama-san, but you had feelings for her! Or at the very least you liked her! Why did you push her away?" She didn't let her mind wander any further from that topic, afraid of the resulting mental backlash.

Kurama smiled wanly at Keiko-a smile of regret. "It's because she liked Shuichi's honesty the most, but never Kurama's earnestness."

"Eh?" Keiko said, not quite fully understanding what Kurama was trying to say.

"She had this perfect image of me-of the nice boy-next-door, Minamino Shuichi," Kurama mused in reminiscence. "But what she liked the most about Shuichi-san was that he was completely honest to a fault." Kurama chuckled a bit; a sad, humorless laugh.

"She never met Kurama. I never allowed her to, because she had already fallen in love with Shuichi. But I then realized-" Kurama suddenly looked straight into Keiko's wide, chocolate-brown eyes. "I can't be Shuichi. I can't become the gentle saint she thought I was. So I let her go."

A long silence followed. Hands in his pockets, Kurama spoke again. "After a scuffle with a couple of youkai where Maya was accidentally involved, I gave her some pollen so that she could forget about the incident, the youkai... and me."

A cold breeze passed by, rustling the leaves of the trees. Kurama looked up in time to see cherry blossoms fall, dancing in the wind in various patterns and forms.

"I'm sorry," Keiko sincerely expressed. "I was saying that it was cruel of you to do that to the girl without realizing that it was cruel for you to continue with such a relationship."

Kurama nodded in kind to Keiko's assessment. "I'm kind of jealous of Yusuke because of it." Seeing Keiko's curious look, Kurama continued his train of thought.

"Yusuke doesn't worry about what others think of him. He goes about his business straightforwardly, not letting anybody else dictate his actions," he elaborated thoughtfully. "Once he set his mind into something, he never gives up. His determination has no equal. He's able to give his all in every battle he has fought and in every situation he's faced with-and I could never be like that."

Kurama sat down on the wooden bench, a distant look in his eyes. "I could never be like Yusuke. I dither and hesitate too much. I make too many considerations, and have too many second thoughts. I put up walls that hold me back." He held back his breath. "Right now, I'm not even completely sure of who I am, much less what I want."

Keiko placed her hand over Kurama's shoulders, her chin on his head. "Can I talk now?" Feeling Kurama's nod with from current position, Keiko spoke.

"You may over-think things too much, and contemplate too long, but in the end, you make your own decisions," Keiko informed. "Emotion is one thing, but what you do with your emotions is another thing altogether.

Kurama looked over his shoulder inquisitively as he let Keiko's words sink in.

"The way I figure it, Kurama-san's earnestness is quite similar to Shuichi-san's honesty," Keiko reckoned as she absently brushed off some stray cherry blossom petals that had landed on her hair. "Kurama-san couldn't stand 'lying' to Maya-san, so he left her. He was too brutally honest with himself to be able to put up with such a situation."

"Kurama-san can only be Kurama-san," Keiko concluded as Kurama suddenly felt a surge of nostalgia in him. "Kurama-san can never, ever hurt the people he cares about the most. He never has any selfish reasons behind his motives; all because he's nice."

Kurama blushed as he looked away, embarrassed. What could you say to _that_? "Thank you, Keiko-san."

Keiko giggled a bit. "Now don't think I'm coming on to you or anything, but I meant what I said. Don't doubt yourself so much. You said so yourself. You believe in fate, but you also believe in your own freedom of will. You're confused right now, so you couldn't fully understand the dream, but it will all make sense once you make the dream your own."

Kurama's eyes shot up as the words pierced through the cloud in his mind.

"Ah! I'm saying some weird stuff here," Keiko lamented, embarrassed. "I don't even know if I'm even making any sense."

"You are. You're making perfect sense," Kurama assured as he stood up, his eyes clear and his features relaxed, as if a huge burden was lifted from his shoulders. "You're pretty insightful, Keiko-san. I feel so revived. I must thank you again. It seems that I owe you so much."

"If you owe me, then promise me one thing," Keiko started as she crossed her arms in the face of the coldness of the night, a friendly smile on her lips. "Clear your head. Get it out of the clouds and see things as is."

Kurama chuckled at that. "I promise. But only if you'll promise to talk to Yusuke about your fight. He may be a hardhead sometimes, but I can assure you, he'll never give up on you. Never ever."

Keiko simply nodded, practically beaming at Kurama. "Then it's my turn to thank you, Kurama-san." She bowed respectfully. "So thank you."

No more words were exchanged that night as each went their separate ways, both having a better understanding of Human Nature and how it worked.

* * *

Before the damnable blanket of reticence covered them in further uncertainty, the imaginary Kurama furthered his admissions, stating, "I could never be like Yusuke, I suppose. We're too different."

Keiko grinned broadly as she giggled. "Well, isn't that the understatement of the century."

Kurama chuckled heartily at Keiko's joke. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

Keiko looked into Kurama's eyes. "What happened to you? Your eyes seem clearer and more focused. You're look like Buddha after he finally reached enlightenment."

Kurama half-smiled. "Is that so?"

"I'm just glad that you're acting more like yourself." She chuckled-but soon, her good humor suddenly had a hint of annoyance to it. "You shouldn't bother trying to become like that uncouth, lousy, good-for-nothing Yusuke. It's really not worth the effort, let me tell you."

A large bead of sweat rolled down Kurama's temple as Keiko continued her tirade. "He's rude, stubborn, lewd, curses a lot, has a one-track mind and-"

"He's so lucky to have you care for him so much," Kurama finished, cutting off Keiko's rant.

"Humph," Keiko harrumphed with decisively less fanfare than her earlier outburst. She wanted to add more to that, but a strange whirring sound suddenly distracted her. "Kurama-san, do you hear...?"

The two stranded castaways paused for a bit as they strained to listen to the noise.

"It couldn't be!" Keiko exclaimed, shocked.

Kurama narrowed his eyes. "Yes, they are...! Those are...!" Kurama's face brightened. "Keiko-san, they're speedboats! Those are speedboats near the shore!"

Keiko squealed in delight. She suddenly sprinted towards the sandy shore, waving excitedly at the oncoming vessels. Kurama was about to join her in celebration when suddenly-

'What are they...?' Kurama thought as his eyes widened in horror. 'Why are they pointing guns at us!'

"Eeeek!" Keiko screeched, small gushing fountains of sand surrounding her as the men in the boats opened fire.

"KEIKO-SAN!" Kurama shouted as he grabbed Keiko in a tight embrace, making use of his body as a shield against the flurry of bullets.

"Kurama-san! Let go! You'll get killed!" Keiko cried as sand pelted the both of them.

Kurama held onto her tightly, thankful that none of the bullets had hit their mark. "No. Didn't you say that I would never let the ones I care about the most get hurt?"

Keiko stared at him blankly. "What the hell are you talking about? I said no such thing! Now let go before you get killed!"

Kurama blinked at Keiko's words. He then remembered something important. 'That's right. This Keiko never told me that. The real Keiko did.' Another thought crossed his mind; a simpler, but all the more surprising thought.

'This isn't the dream Kurama talking. This is _me_ talking,' Kurama noted, now fully understanding Keiko's words.

"You're acting more like yourself."

Kurama then heard a malicious chuckle. He glanced at the cackling man, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

"What a touching scene. You two are like lovers now, hmm?" the dark, heavily-built man mocked as he chortled some more.

Before Kurama could react, he was already kicked forcefully at his side. He relinquished his hold over Keiko as air suddenly rushed out of his lungs.

"I thought sabotaging that helicopter of yours was enough, but it seems that you two have more lives than a cat." The man cocked his gun. "Let me extinguish those excess lives for you."

Kurama turned to his side, but the intense pain suddenly made him wince. 'My body is weaker in this dream,' he dolefully noted as his vision became hazy. He willed himself to focus at the two blurs in front of him, fighting the pain that pierced through his side. "Keiko-san! No...!"

There was a scream, then a gunshot.

* * *

"YOU ASSHOLE! Don't you dare lay one finger on Keiko!"

Kurama knew that voice. As his vision cleared, it was his mind's turn to become unfocused. 'What in the...?'

The gunman flew past the prone Kurama, leaving a trail of blood, sweat, and tears. The redhead's eyes widened in realization.

"Y-Yusuke?" both Kurama and Keiko chorused as the person they addressed made quick work of their aggressors.

Kurama then noticed the extra boat beside the other two speedboats. "I-It's... the coastline guard!" He sighed a breath of relief. 'So that's how Yusuke got here. They must have followed these people to this island.'

The coastline guard began surrounding the ruffians and hoodlums as they were plowed down, one-by-one, by the hands of one very pissed-off Yusuke. The splatter of blood and the sound of bones breaking mixed with cries of agony as Yusuke doled out his heavenly punishment.

"Stop right there, or I'll shoot the girl!" a desperate-sounding hoodlum said as he aimed his pistol directly at the shocked Keiko. "Don't think that I'm just bluffing! I'll really do it!"

Yusuke slowly stalked the man, a feral look in his eyes.

"I SAID GET AWAY!" the man hysterically screamed as he shot at Yusuke several times. Yusuke trudged on, as if he didn't even notice the bullet wounds on his person.

"Go ahead, kill the girl," came Kurama's taunt. The man whirled his head wildly at Kurama, giving him an intense, demanding look. Yusuke also stared at Kurama in the same manner.

"If you kill her, what's to stop Yusuke from killing you?"

The man darted his eyes back and forth at Keiko, Yusuke and Kurama, looking as if the three were hunters and he was the rabbit trapped in his burrow. His hands trembled as he lost grip of his gun, the firearm falling harmlessly on the grainy sand.

Kurama turned to see an out-of-breath Yusuke suddenly walk towards a very stupefied Keiko. They looked at each other warily.

"What the hell were you thinking, walking towards that man while he was holding a gun?" Keiko demanded frantically, breaking the silence. "He could have killed you! You idiot!"

Yusuke scratched his chin, not quite knowing how to respond to that. "Oh, this? This is just a flesh wound. The man was scared shitless. He couldn't even aim his gun right."

"You're still an idiot! How could you be so careless?" Keiko screamed as she tore her shirt's sleeve and patched up Yusuke's shoulder. "What took you so long, anyway?" she added softly.

Kurama smiled wanly. "I guess this dream isn't about me anymore."

"Only that part of the dream, Shuichi-san."

Kurama squinted his eyes again as his vision suddenly blurred. He then moved towards the source of the voice. "Maya-san."

* * *

Kurama quietly emptied his desk as the upcoming exams made it necessary for him to study at home. He sighed. It had been three days since he last had his strange dream; and after that, no other dreams followed. 'At last, the puzzle has really been solved.'

Kurama sensed a presence behind him; a particularly feminine presence, at that. 'Ah. It must be one of the Legion's members. I should've known that this quiet day was too good to last.'

Sure enough, as Kurama turned around, there she was-a girl of medium height with sideburns that were as long as her bangs. He recognized her as one of the close friends of Chiho Sasae, the infamous president of the 'Legion of Minamino-sama.' He idly wondered what the group wanted from him this time.

"Yumiko-san, isn't it?" Kurama politely noted as the girl suddenly blushed. He gave her an open, friendly smile as he amicably asked, "What can I do for the Legion, Yumiko-san?"

Yumiko shook her head as she tightly gripped the hardbound girl's comic book she held behind her. "I'm not here to represent the Legion, Shu-Minamino-san."

Kurama raised a inquiring eyebrow at the girl, not sure what to expect.

Yumiko handed Kurama the shojo manga, blushing in spite of herself. Kurama, on the other hand, blushed in spite of himself as well, but for a completely different reason. "Thanks... I think... but I have to make things clear. Just because there are certain male classmates who chase after me doesn't necessarily mean I entertain their-"

Yumiko giggled daintily at Kurama's defensive response. She abruptly looked pensive as she clarified, "I-it's not like that, Minamino-san. This is a gift straight from my heart. I-it's a symbol of my... love."

The statement confirmed Kurama's suspicions. 'The poor thing.'

Yumiko must have seen the change of expression in Kurama's features, because she suddenly sputtered, "I... see. I'm sorry for wasting your time. I could see it in your eyes that you don't exactly appreciate my attentions," while her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Kurama wanted to say something to comfort the girl, but she gestured him to wait and listen. "I would have never thought in my wildest dreams to even attempt this. I was content with 'putting my head in the clouds,' as my friends are wont to say."

Kurama nodded to the girl. "It must have taken you a lot of courage to come forward like this."

The young woman shook her head, rubbing her eyes as the tears slowly streamed on her cheeks. "It wasn't courage, but rather a wake up call. For a long time, I believed that you and I were soul mates that shared one mind; a mutual bond that was unbreakable." She sniffled a bit, shedding her tears continuously.

Kurama was aware that he and the girl were making a scene, but unless he ended it here, he wouldn't consider himself a real man.

"But I had a dream three nights ago that changed all that."

Kurama's heart skipped a beat.

"Fate and dreams are alike. It sets you on a path, a goal. It gives you purpose in life. But they can also become a trap. You could use fate as an excuse to not do anything, since everything is already predestined for you. So are dreams. Living in a dream world provides you an escape from reality, so you don't have to deal with real life issues and drama."

Kurama swallowed the lump in his throat as nostalgia hit him full force.

"But fate could only take you so far. In the end it's your decision-your judgment-that would decide your destiny. And it's the same with dreams."

Maya's face suddenly flashed before Kurama's eyes as the last part of his dream suddenly presented itself in crystal clarity in his mind's eye.

* * *

As Kurama's vision became clear, all he saw was the smiling face of Maya Kitajima. He inspected his surroundings. Sure enough, he saw the same street where he and Maya used to walk home from school together. The situation was set in the same afternoon sun. Every detail of their daily routine was there in full lucidity.

Maya offered a congratulatory smile, saying, "Well done, Shuichi-san. Well done."

"What was 'well done', Maya-san?" Kurama asked, in awe of Maya's image before him. He had many other things to say and many things to explain to her-or at least, to the Maya inside of him-but he didn't where to start.

"I think what Shuichi-san did was worth the congratulations," Maya elucidated, grinning enigmatically. Seeing Kurama's confused face, she continued.

"You haven't realized it? You have made this dream into your own dream, Shuichi-san. Just like Keiko-san suggested," the specter surmised. She melancholically sighed. "I am able to address who Keiko-san is although in reality I've never met her, but your subconscious won't even allow me to call you by any name other than 'Shuichi-san.'"

Kurama was about to mutter an apology when Maya signaled for him to stop. "I'm happy being what I am now... an image in your mind... because I'm glad that somehow, you've let me in your heart. This is enough," she stated, wiping a tear away. "I'm happy that when you made this dream your own, I'm a part of it. I'm more than glad to be a part of your dreams, Shuichi-san. Never forget that."

* * *

"Minamino-san, I wanted to make that dream into my own," Yumiko attested, her voice subdued. "So I did this. Instead of living in my dream, I'm here to live my dream."

She laughed forlornly. "I knew that somehow it would come to this, but I have no r-regrets." Yumiko's voice started to break up. "T-T-Thank you for your time!" she finally choked as she suddenly ran out of the classroom, bawling her eyes out.

Kurama discreetly avoided the various glares directed upon his person as he inspected the manga Yumiko left. 'I probably should return this-' He paused in mid-thought.

The inside cover of the paperback book showed a woman scantily dressed with a sarong around her waist and a garland of tulips covering her naked chest. She was kissing a bespectacled man in an island backdrop with the sun setting.

'No. It can't be. It can't...!' Kurama disbelievingly reckoned as he leafed through the pages of the comic book. There in the manga, he saw pictures of a helicopter crash, a steamy love scene, terrorists and a deserted island. He furrowed his eyebrows. 'What's going on? Is Munashii behind this? Why?'

It was the perennial question-the question that Kurama had asked ever since the start of his dilemma with Munashii-a question that still remained unanswered.

Why?

* * *

A few months later, in the middle of summer, Kurama was still looking quite worried. He'd already put that incident with Keiko, Yusuke, and Yumiko behind him, so something else was preoccupying his addled mind.

For some reason, Kurama couldn't help but feel kind of forlorn that fateful summer afternoon. Oh, who was he kidding? He missed Hiei; that was why he was feeling so sad.

After Munashii came into their lives and unleashed all sorts of havoc by possessing Kuwabara's body, sucking Yusuke's reiki dry, nearly killing Hiei, and almost turning Kurama into a brain-dead vegetable (not necessarily in that order), Hiei just disappeared. Obviously, the koorime-descended fire demon was off to hunt the broken spirit by himself, swearing bloody vengeance and some such.

Kurama wanted to tell Hiei everything that had happened to him so far-like, say, his dreams about Yusuke and Keiko, his discovery that it had something to do with the dreams of one of his classmates, and his fears that Munashii might have something to do with the incident. Most of all, he wanted to tell Hiei how much he missed him, and how lost he felt without him.

"Hey, kitsune. What's with that lonely look on your face?" the stoic-voiced Hiei sneered at Kurama, which startled the redhead. The diminutive youkai was idly cleaning his long and deadly sword by the windowsill, his raven-and-white-streaked hair tousled by a summer gale.

Kurama couldn't help but grin at the fire demon once he recovered from his initial shock. He didn't even bother asking himself why Hiei was there and how weird a coincidence it was for him to pop up at such an opportune time. As long as the jaganshi was back, he didn't really care.

Hiei jumped down from this precarious perch and tenderly held the nonplussed Kurama in his arms.

"What's this about?" Kurama queried.

"Humph. Just shut up." After a brief pause, Hiei confided, "I'm sorry."

Kurama tilted his head to the side before asking, "For... what?"

Hiei snarled as he wrestled with his own embarrassment. "I'm sorry that I've taken you for granted for so long."

Kurama nodded sagely before naughtily grinning; his face afterwards turned into an mischievous mask of mock innocence and wonder as he coaxed, "Taken me for granted...?"

Hiei squirmed a little as he kept away from looking at Kurama's lovely, green-eyed gaze.

"You're teasing me, fox!" Hiei complained angrily, but it sounded more like a halfhearted whimper, to his disappointment. "What do you want me to say? That I was worried when you were nearly rendered mindless by Munashii? That I had never been so scared in all my life at that very moment? That-"

"I love you too," Kurama came clean before hushing the jaganshi with a gentle, quivering kiss.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Kurama's nightmare?

Again, credit to the dream story (except the latter parts) goes to Chiho Saito's oneshot manga. Also, the "Does hell await us? Does heaven await us?" quote is a reference to either I"S or Video Girl Ai. I forgot which. ^^; Gomen yo.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen__-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	9. Chapter 8: Summertime

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

This is the yaoi parody chapter. Sorry fangirls, there is no real yaoi content.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Summertime**

* * *

Kurama happily sauntered off the gates of Meiou High, obviously in a perky mood. His stride was resolute as he made his way home. He could not imagine himself to be any happier than he was right then with all the gaiety and glee he exuded.

As usual, through an understanding school administration and Kurama's natural knack with Human World academics, he was able to pass his final tests with flying colors, despite his already numerous absences. But the real reason behind his cheer was the fact that today was the last day of classes. Summer vacation was finally here! It was a welcome break for the hard-pressed and stressed-out youko, who had to figuratively go through hell and back for the last few months.

But he hadn't seen Hiei yet. After the recent events involving Munashii... namely the possession of Kuwabara, the near-fatal ki-drain of Yusuke, the near-death experience of Hiei and his own near-rendering into an unintelligible vegetable... the jaganshi was just gone. Spirited away, no doubt in search of the undead, broken spirit that was now the mutual enemy of all.

He had neither seen nor spoken to his little fire demon-ice demon hybrid/jaganshi/fellow youkai in months. It was already summer, for goodness sake; meaning it was summer break, where he had an abundance of time to see his dear, sweet little Hiei. The fact that he hadn't seen him in a long time was getting him upset and a little depressed.

The youko's earlier happiness suddenly evaporated as he made his way into the train station. He had not yet completely recovered from last spring's incident concerning his weird dreams about Keiko and some such. Still, he had a pretty dubious visualization in his mind-that was, instead of Keiko greeting him as the train doors opened, it was Hiei, sitting by the window and cleaning his sword.

'This is silly of me. Of course Hiei doesn't know how to ride a train,' Kurama lightly berated himself as he sighed. He knew it was silly of him to think that way, but it didn't hurt to dream, did it?

He rode the train in silence. He couldn't allow himself to think of anything else other than getting home. As his experience with Keiko taught, over-thinking something repetitiously was an inescapable mental prison. He didn't want to undergo the same experience this time. After all, there were some thoughts that were best left un-thought.

Scenes unfolded before the youko as if he were experiencing the events by means of the fast forward function of a VCR. Incidents came and went like short-lived bubbles freely floating in the summer breeze. First there was the PA system's blaring of Kurama's stop, then his muted exit from the Shimizu station. From there, there was his mostly uneventful walk back home, and as he entered the Minamino residence, time thankfully slowed down to its normal rate of passing.

Seconds ticked as he stared wordlessly at the doorknob. He heaved a heavy sigh as he finally allowed himself to contemplate the situation, revealing his innermost insights.

'I should just open the door. Whether or not Hiei is in there, the fact remains true: This is still my room. I'll understand if he hasn't come back yet. After all, he is trying to protect me from a soul-sucking non-entity.'

So he opened the door and went in his sparsely-furnished quarters as he carefully avoided looking directly at the room, afraid to see it empty... and lonely looking.

His eyes suddenly shimmered in his lonesome. He really did miss Hiei a lot. To think, he wanted to tell the jaganshi so many things, like his silly fantasy of Keiko and his inkling fears concerning Munashii's involvement with it, how much he appreciated the jaganshi's awe-inspiring perseverance in saving his life, and how much he wanted him to be at his side right now.

"Hey, kitsune. What's with that lonely look on your face?" Hiei scoffed in his usual stoic voice as he idly polished his long and deadly katana, his mostly raven-black hair wafting through the summer breeze.

Kurama grinned, more delighted than stupefied. He didn't feel the need to dilly-dally about how Hiei wasn't supposed to be there and wonder why he was there. It didn't matter to him. The youko relaxed as a warm feeling enveloped him. It was a feeling of safety; a feeling of protection.

Hiei suddenly stepped down from his precarious perch on the windowsill and unabashedly embraced the shocked youko.

Kurama was startled but delighted with the gesture as he, albeit awkwardly, hugged his fellow youkai back. "Where have you been, Hiei? I was so worried, I thought Munashii got you," he quietly said as he caught the scent of Hiei's hair. It had a fiery, warm musk to it, like the smell of the summer breeze that normal humans just couldn't catch. Kurama smiled. Hiei smelt of summer.

The taller youkai leaned back and playfully pointed at Hiei's nose. He repressed a giggle when the fire demon's eyes crossed as he looked at the curious gesture with open confusion. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

Hiei suddenly let go of Kurama, startling the youko a bit. The jaganshi inhaled deeply, visibly agitated, as he bowed down in typical Japanese fashion.

"What's this about?" Kurama asked, startled.

"Humph. Just shut up." Getting his desired response, Hiei seemed to brace himself as he tried to collect the courage to say something. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Kurama blinked several times before responding. "For... what?"

Hiei growled audibly as he struggled with his words. Talking, after all, wasn't his strong point. "I'm sorry that I've taken you for granted for so long."

Kurama nodded slowly in understanding. Then, a flash of an impish grin formed on his face before it melted into an expression of innocence and wonder. "Taken me for granted...?"

Hiei fidgeted a little as he avoided Kurama's beautiful gaze.

"You're teasing me, fox!" Hiei exclaimed, but it came out more like a whine, to his chagrin. "What do you want me to say? That I was worried when you were nearly rendered mindless by Munashii? That I had never been so scared in all my life at that very moment? That-"

"I love you too," Kurama said before silencing the jaganshi altogether with a soft, fluttering kiss.

* * *

Kurama's eyes widened. Fright, alarm and a whole other menagerie of feelings and emotions engulfed him as he woke up from his weird... for lack of a better, descriptive term... dream.

He rose from his prone position, his pillows curiously moist. It was probably from his cold sweat, he reckoned to himself. He then sniffed the air around him. He noted that he mildly smelt of salty sweat and... fright. He could tell, since a youko could smell fear.

His eyes darted back and forth in his darkened room for any sign of the jaganshi and his breezy summer musk.

No, he didn't just think that.

Kurama sighed. 'Oh no, not this again.' Then he reconsidered his statement. It wasn't as if he had dreams of kissing Hiei everyday. He hastily tried to rephrase the thought before stopping altogether as he realized how silly he was acting.

'Hiei...' he thought, alarmed and perplexed at the same time. He shook his head out of any presumption and premature conclusion as he tried to logically surmise the reason behind the curious fantasy.

'What was the dream about this time? Am I worried about Hiei? It's been three months since I last saw him. He didn't even bother to say good-bye to me.'

He then put a tentative finger on his moist mouth, tracing an imaginary line over his lower lip. Thusly, after realizing what he did, he suddenly looked sick to his stomach as he summarily turned blue.

He coughed once-a curious human act that was sometimes done when one was embarrassed publicly. He thought it was a silly thing to do while no one was around, but he felt embarrassed enough to warrant it as a tolerable gesture.

'I actually... Hiei... and I... Oh my,' Kurama loquaciously deliberated. He knew that, out of the four spirit detectives, he was the closest to the diminutive jaganshi. He knew all of his dark secrets. He'd seen him when he was in his most vulnerable state. He had seen sides of him that people didn't even dream existed. He knew of his reason for being, and vice-versa.

'One thing is clear: Even though I don't know how or why I became this clairvoyant in terms of dreams, I do know that these dreams aren't necessarily a reflection of my true self,' Kurama thought resolutely. 'No matter how compelling the dream may be, it still won't change anything. It's just a distorted way of looking at my relationship with Hiei. It's mostly true, but not necessarily a hundred percent accurate.'

Now he was starting to sound like the younger Toguro, spouting out percentages and some such. 'I've been through this. I should now know what to expect.' The loud pounding of his heart that assailed his sensitive ears told him otherwise.

'Okay, so Hiei and I are close... friends. I couldn't emphasize the word enough; _friends_. Just friends. We're nothing but friends,' Kurama insisted to himself as he realized his own agitated contemplations were enough to convict him of his unrealized insecurities.

'That's enough of that! I've been through this-the weird dreams, I mean-and certainly not any particular type of dream; certainly not any dream concerning my dear Hiei-my dear _friend_ Hiei, that was what I meant to say... think... or something,' Kurama ranted as he tried to straighten out his thoughts.

An earlier question in his mind-a question that he'd continually asked himself lately-reemerged in his head with an added twist.

"Why?" he asked the heavens, as if pleading for an answer. "Why me?"

* * *

"Hey! Kurama! Kurama, ol' buddy! Ain't this a great coi... coin... I mean, what are the chances?" Yusuke happily called out to the brooding youko, interrupting his deep thoughts.

Kurama sheepishly hid his face under the collar of his uniform as onlookers began looking intently at him and Yusuke. He discreetly waved hello at the boisterous teenager.

"Who would have thought we'd meet here?" Yusuke supposed, his grin threatening to split his face.

"Apparently you," Kurama observed as he gestured around their current location. "Yusuke, what are you doing here in Meiou High? I doubt that you even have a visitor's pass. Don't you have classes to attend to?"

Yusuke shrugged nonchalantly as he ambled towards the bench where Kurama was sitting. "What are classes compared to hanging out with my good buddy? Besides, Junior High classes were over hours ago."

"I'm really flattered, but you probably don't attend your classes regardless," Kurama deadpanned before he altogether chuckled. "Seriously, why are you here?"

Yusuke nudged Kurama's side. "Heh. You really are the coy fox, aren't you?" The sleek-haired youth winked as he slung his arm over the older boy's shoulder.

Kurama boggled as Yusuke's face inched closer to his. 'Oh no. Did I fall asleep again after waking up from the other nightmare? Is this yet another one of those weird, weird dreams?' Kurama thought sullenly.

Yusuke proceeded to deeply, passionately give Kurama the noogie of his life-meaning he rubbed his knuckles on the redhead's skull. "Now don't try to pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about! I owe you, man!"

"You... owe me?" Kurama repeated as slowly and carefully as possible. He rubbed the sore spot on his head, hiding his shamefaced expression by looking away. 'Okay, so this isn't a dream and I was jumping to strange conclusions. So Yusuke isn't... y'know...' Kurama reckoned, sighing in disappointment.

'Disdain! I was sighing in disdain!' the youko hurriedly supplemented in his aching head.

"Hell yeah! Because of you, Keiko's not, y'know, angry at me anymore and junk!" Yusuke gleefully revealed before he hastily added, "Which is a good thing, because she's not bugging me with all her girly issues and stuff."

"Sooo... Keiko finally talked to you, Yusuke?" Kurama asked offhandedly.

Yusuke's eyes darted back and forth as he scrambled for a change of topic. Realizing that there was no avenue of escape, he relented. "Yeah, sort of... something like that."

Kurama heaved a relieved sigh as his mouth curved into a leisurely smile, as if he had been holding his breath all this time until now. "That's good to hear."

Yusuke produced a wide grin in kind. "And I heard from her that I have you to thank for it." He pounded his chest in a show of machismo. "I am in your debt, Kurama! As of now, I will do everything in my power to repay that debt! I swear to you as a man!"

Kurama merely sweatdropped. "Well, if it makes you happy. Just stop rubbing my head." He then quickly rethought his statement as a couple of girls behind them began giggling. He sighed as he gave said females a sidelong glance of pleading.

'No more rumor mongering, people! Don't you girls think that I've suffered enough since the last time? I went and talked to Shigeru-kun for more than one minute and then rumors started to spread.' Kurama massaged his temples as his oncoming headache finally surfaced. He remembered the incident that followed after the disastrous gossip spread around campus like wildfire.

'Well, suffice it to say that certain people either became convinced that I'm a cross-dressing girl in search of a long-lost fiance here in Meiou-Yeah right, like that's even possible-' Kurama mentally snorted, 'or that I'm... Well, let's just say that some guys don't really care whether or not I'm a cross-dressing girl.'

"Hello, Minamino-sama!"

The girl whom Kurama unmistakably recognized as Chiho Sasae waved cheerfully. She was hard not to spot, what with the loud colors of the clothes she wore and the large, dangling circlets hanging on her ears that tinkled like wind chimes. A couple of other girls echoed the flashy girl's sentiments as they began to wave and giggle at the apparently popular bishonen.

'Oh no. It's one of the 'detachments' of the Legion,' Kurama inwardly groaned, referring to Meiou's unofficial fan club of him; the 'Legion of Minamino-sama,' so to speak. The very same 'Legion' that Chiho Sasae just happened to be the president of. It looked like it was going to be another typical day at Meiou High after all.

Yusuke nudged Kurama below the ribs again. "Minamino-_sama_, eh? These girls are practically worshipping you, you lucky fox, you!"

Kurama chuckled half-heartedly at Yusuke's comment. 'Oh Yusuke. Poor, innocent Yusuke. If you only knew.'

The kitsune then noticed the pensive-looking girl just behind Chiho. Hers was a face that stood out from the crowd of giggling girls since the expression she wore was in stark contrast to the rest of them.

Kurama struggled to place a name on the familiar face. It was a face that was framed by auburn bangs that reached until the top of her eyebrows, covering most of her forehead, and sideburns that were just as long that gently wafted in the whispers of a warm, summer breeze. These whispers soon formed into words; words that were both his and her own.

"I wanted to make that dream into my own. So I did this. Instead of living in my dream, I'm here to live my dream."

"Yumiko-san," Kurama blurted out as the name and the face suddenly clicked with his recent memories, his own thoughts betraying him.

Yumiko suddenly turned towards the source of voice. Her eyes became as wide as saucers as her gaze met Kurama's. Her lips then trembled unconsciously as she fought back the onset of tears.

"Excuse me," she managed to squeak out before making a scene by running away in near tears. A girl suddenly followed her, someone whom Kurama remembered as one of his nicer classmates-Midori was her name, he believed-crying out, "Yumiko-san! Wait!"

A couple of girls that were waving at him cheerfully before were now giving him outright glares, while the majority of the girls were merely grinning smiles of utter confusion, as though they didn't know who to side with and why.

Chiho, on the other hand, was the epitome of collectedness as she gave Kurama one of her winning smiles. "I'm sorry about that, Minamino-san. Please do excuse my friend for her outburst. Y'know how it is," she apologized, her mouth slightly curving into a smirk as Kurama seemed to take note of the tamer '-san' honorific. "I'd love to stay and chat, but we have places to go and stuff to do. Besides, we wouldn't want to impose on your friend over there. Right, girls?"

Several girls nodded in affirmation as they laughed stiltedly, while others-the ones that were glaring holes at Kurama-decided to depart right then and there, leaving in a huff towards the direction Yumiko went.

"See you whenever! Do have a happy summer vacation, Minamino-san," Chiho bid farewell as she and left, followed by her somewhat embarrassed posse as they made a beeline to the school gates.

Silence passed the two Spirit Detectives in an unhurried pace. "So what was that all about?" Hearing no response, Yusuke prodded, "Going home?"

Kurama nodded curtly, his eyes thin slits of grimness.

Bringing both hands on the back of his head, Yusuke casually queried, "You're going to take the train, right?" as he lazily gazed at the orange-red sky and the quickly setting sun.

Kurama sighed as he gave the sleek-haired youth a consenting smile. "Yes."

* * *

"So absolutely no comment on what happened a while ago?" Yusuke insisted as he walked Kurama home.

"Long story," Kurama said tersely.

"Okay," Yusuke relented as he again gazed at the descending sun.

There was a long pause. Kurama broke the silence by getting straight to the point.

"You're not going to follow me from my school to my home now, are you, Yusuke?" Kurama frankly asked. "Though it's kind of flattering to think you're indebted to me, I don't think it would warrant stalking me at every turn."

There was another long pause. Yusuke whistled an offbeat tune before he replied.

"I know you tried, but you suck at getting to the point," Yusuke informed, convinced that he was a master at getting to the point.

Kurama didn't know how to reply to that. Of course, that was a natural reaction whenever it came to conversations with Yusuke, but the perseverant teenager did have a point. "Do you have any advice and suggestions for me, then?"

"For one thing, you have to use _simpler_ words," Yusuke theorized, emphasizing the fact through a simple hand gesture. "Screw that. Simpler, _ fewer_ words is the name of the game. It doesn't hurt to make yourself easier to understand."

"Fine. Simpler, fewer words. And then?" Kurama prodded, amused at where the conversation was going.

"Stop avoiding the issue," Yusuke reasoned, nodding sagely. "I learned that from Keiko; the fact that you can avoid an issue, I mean. I never avoid issues. In simpler terms, you should be more honest with yourself, Kurama."

Kurama chuckled at Yusuke's statement. 'So she threw my own words at him when she finally confronted him,' he thought, entertained by the young Urameshi's antics. 'And now Yusuke is throwing those very words back at me. How ironic.'

"Okay, I'll give your suggestions a shot. To make a long story short, Yumiko-san was a girl who had the misfortune of falling for me," Kurama thoughtfully admitted, and he left it at that. He still wasn't sure what to make of the eerie dreams he had of Keiko, and he was prudent enough to know that Yusuke was the last person he should talk to about it.

More to the point, he also wasn't sure if all of it was somehow connected to Yumiko's peculiarly similar dreams or if it was even somehow connected to Munashii and the events that preceded it. He wasn't quite sure if he should tell Yusuke anything about it at all, since he hadn't figured it out himself.

Yusuke looked at Kurama crossly. "That wasn't straight to the point. That was ambiguous and shit." The half-demon then scratched the back of his neck in grudging acceptance. "Oh well. To expect something simple from you is useless."

Kurama shrugged helplessly. "What can you do?" He looked towards the horizon. Sure enough, they were already nearing the train station. He backtracked the conversation in his head. As he thought more about it, the events from last spring seemed far off and distant.

"I wonder what that showy kogal meant by 'We wouldn't want to impose on your friend over there'?" Yusuke suddenly wondered out loud, more to himself than to anyone in particular. Nonetheless, it proved to be Kurama's rude awakening of sorts. "I didn't like her tone of voice, and she was kind of looking at us funny," the impulsive teen further mused.

Kurama didn't like the direction the conversation was going; not one bit. "I'm sure it must not have been important." He subsequently smacked his fist on his palm as he gestured wholeheartedly towards the train station. "Oh, look! The station! I'll be going now. See you later, Yusuke!"

Yusuke, for his part, didn't even seem to notice Kurama's exaggerated actions and words. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she was suggesting that we were both gay lovers!"

There were times when Kurama wished Yusuke was far less blunt. This was one of those times. He facepalmed in frustration.

"I suddenly don't quite like that friend of yours, Kurama," Yusuke resolutely remarked. "Why, she's just as worse as Munashii, the ghost faerie!"

Before Kurama became conscious of it, he had already cocked his eyebrow at Yusuke's statement. He suddenly found himself curiously peeved at hearing such a derogatory statement about homosexuality.

"That Munashii, he's just disgusting. He wanted Minamino Shuichi? What kind of shit is that?"

Every word from that statement elicited a feeling of shock and dismay in Kurama that he never thought was in there in the first place. He winced at each and every tiny barb that came out of Yusuke's foul mouth as his body began to shake with inexplicable rage.

"Well, I say what he's doing is a fucked up way of showing his faggotry for you. I should just kick his faggy ass so hard his nonexistent descendants would be shitting through their-"

"Keep quiet, Yusuke."

* * *

Yusuke was literally startled out of his rant. The words he heard were barely above a whisper, but the venom and vehemence in them was sharp and crystal clear as glass shards. He blinked. "Hey, Kurama. Are you okay?

He felt a vague presence of demonic energy in the air as the hairs on the back of his neck started rising. 'Youki?' He winced as he finally met the youko's stare.

It had the look of ineffable cold rage. Kurama's glare pierced through Yusuke's senses as sharply as the hints of youki in the air. He spoke in tones more reminiscent of his true youko self rather than his gentler, kindlier human alter ego.

"You and your homophobic tendencies. You speak as if Munashii suddenly became more disgusting, more villainous with his preferences."

"Now hold on a minute!" Yusuke protested. "I never said anything like that! When the hell did this become a debate about homos and fags?"

Kurama just snorted derisively. "Why, Yusuke? Do you find 'fags' so revolting that you naturally equate them with all that is evil in the world? So all faggots are evil since they engage in sordid little acts of perverseness and depravity?"

"What the hell's the matter with you, Kurama? You're acting so weird! I was just trash talking Munashii, that's all!" Yusuke yelped, not sure where the conversation was going. As it was, he was just confused and perplexed. "Since when did you become an advocate of gays anyway?"

"Since I found myself suddenly insulted with what you're saying," Kurama hissed through barely controlled tones. "What did you say when you first heard Munashii admit that he had a liking for me? 'Gay ghost,' you said, as if it was some sort of cuss or insult. And then, just now, you said, in paraphrase, that you'll kick Munashii's 'faggy ass.' If that isn't discrimination and bigotry talking, then I don't know what is."

Yusuke was suddenly caught in a compromising situation that he thought was only unique to conversations with Keiko Yukimura; the situation of having your foot stuck in your mouth. His own words now trapped him in Kurama's compelling case. How did one respond to such an argument? He didn't even know how he got into that situation in the first place. Nonetheless, he was going to get out of it in the only way that he could; the Urameshi way.

"Look, Kurama... maybe I am acting a bit... homophobic," Yusuke owned up, not entirely understanding the word he was spewing forth. "I don't deny that. But don't go on telling me that I said those words on purpose to victimize people. I said them to insult one person: Munashii."

"But by using those words as insults, don't you think, in turn, that it's a good way of victimizing people? Isn't giving their lifestyle some sort of negative connotation a form of discrimination?"

'The guy's got a point,' Yusuke thought reluctantly. 'Damn, I hate walking on eggshells.' He looked Kurama straight in the eye. "Okay, I don't claim myself to be the most wholesome person in the world, and I can't take back anything I've already said, but I won't be even pretend to be sorry for calling Munashii a fag. Why? Because there's a distinct difference between 'fag' and 'homo' in my book."

Yusuke thought hard for a viable example. "Look, it's like this: It isn't evil for a guy to have sex with a girl, right? But if a guy rapes a girl, then it becomes evil. Munashii, for all intents and purposes in my eyes, wanted to _ rape_ you, Kurama-meaning do you in unwillingly, in whatever manner I don't even want to think about. I would do a lot more than just _insult_ him because of the threat he posed."

Yusuke breathed a heavy sigh. He hated thinking about complex moralistic bullshit. He did what he felt like doing and said what he felt like saying. That was Yusuke Urameshi in quintessence. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say here, Kurama?"

Kurama didn't look completely convinced, but his previous livid anger had already subsided dramatically to tolerable levels. From there, he rubbed his temples as his head throbbed with the onset of another migraine. "I think so."

Yusuke plopped down on the dusty walkway, a feeling of fatigue enveloping him. 'Man, I think I'm also getting a headache.' He watched as the prim and proper Kurama uncharacteristically sat beside him on that very sidewalk. "Aren't you going to go home, Kurama?"

"I can manage, Yusuke," Kurama assured as he mentally deliberated the situation. 'What made me snap at Yusuke like that? I nearly bit his head off with all the... hostility that brimmed on the fine line that was holding my temper in check.'

Yusuke laughed wanly as he watched the jaded sun finally set across the horizon, its light slowly fading into irrelevance. "Boy, I didn't know that you were a gay rights activist, Kurama. If I only knew, maybe I would have watched what I was saying. Not that I'm making any promises or anything. It's hard to trash talk politely, if you know what I mean."

Kurama pensively nodded. 'Awkward. Everything between us is definitely awkward. But who could blame him? I don't even know where that outburst came from.' His eyes widened as Yusuke slung his arm amicably around his neck.

Yusuke grinned like an idiot as he spoke. "That's what I like about you! You're honest to a fault. Why, the first time I met you, you were hell-bent on sacrificing yourself to save your dear old mother. I think you're quite a guy!"

Kurama blushed in spite of himself. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable of Yusuke's nearness to him. Perplexing feelings of apprehension, anxiety, and whatnot began to make Kurama feel rather squeamish.

'Why do I feel so defensive?'

Kurama couldn't even return the younger boy's gaze. The fearful thoughts in his bewildered mind simply paralyzed him.

'What am I supposed to realize?' Realization struck a chord in him-a chord that he didn't want to acknowledge or understand.

'No, no. Not that. No way. Anything but that.'

Eternity came and went as the youko's feeling of trepidation rose to disturbing levels. He un-slung Yusuke's arm as calmly as possible as he felt his own sense of self shrink back into the dark recesses of his head. Yusuke just looked at him in innocent askance, a puzzled look on his face.

"Yusuke," he queried straightforwardly, "do you think I'm gay?"

So just as it had begun, so it would end. Wordless acquiescence passed the pair in a leisurely, unceremonious pace.

* * *

Yusuke sat there on the sidewalk, awestruck beyond mere words, as the sky quickly adopted a definite blurred, faded quality to it. But the half-demon barely even noticed all that splendor despite his heightened senses and all because of the current situation at hand. He could barely even think straight at that point, pun unintended.

"You... are..." Yusuke garrulously sputtered. Kurama just stared sheepishly at his fellow spirit detective, who was now doing a great impression of a lawn ornament.

"Are you all right, Yusuke?" Kurama curiously asked his awestruck companion.

Yusuke suddenly laughed out loud. "Kurama, you wouldn't believe the crazy daydream I had! I dreamt that you asked me if you were gay. HA!"

Kurama looked away as he bit his lip. "I did ask that question, Yusuke. Just now." He sighed as Yusuke froze up again in shock. 'This is getting me nowhere.'

Seeing that everything was now out of the closet, 'Open! Everything is now out in the open!' Kurama simply continued his perilous train of thought. "Just a while ago, I had a weird dream about Hiei. Now, I'm not an expert at interpreting peculiar dreams and all, since my youko form only had a dreamless sleep, and my present human form was having all these strange fantasies just recently. That's why I had to ask that question."

Staring sightlessly into the darkening sky, Yusuke dared query, "What did you dream about Hiei? I mean, what happened in your dream?"

Kurama wiped his mouth unconsciously as the memory resurfaced in his mind. "I dreamt that... we... kissed."

Yusuke suddenly and energetically stood up, stating, "My, my! Look at the time! I gotta run, Kurama! Early to bed, early to rise! Later!"

Kurama tugged at the younger boy's sleeve, giving him a solemn look. "You owe me, remember?"

Yusuke begrudgingly settled back to his seat on the pavement, groaning. Kurama gave a small nod of appreciation, but he could still feel the barrier that had come between them. 'I guess it couldn't be helped.'

Kurama stubbornly stared at Yusuke while the sulking half-demon did his best to ignore the youko. In all seriousness, Kurama asked, "It's not the voice, is it?"

"Uhhhh, nice weather we're having, eh?" Yusuke said appreciatively, pointing at the diamond sky. "Even at night, the temperature remains warm and, er, not cold."

"Is it my mannerisms?" Kurama urged, not at all willing to relent to Yusuke's half-baked 'feigning innocence' act. "Do I look too timid? Too unassuming?"

"I saw a falling star!" Yusuke celebrated, sniggering happily. "I think I'll make a wish. I'll give you three guesses on what that wish is."

Kurama began to look desperate. "Is it the way I dress?"

Yusuke began lobbing miniature Rei-Gans at nearby trees, branches, and the occasional squirrel, amusing himself in a way only a six-year-old child with a toy air gun would understand.

"But it's not fair! How was I to know that Meiou had all the males wear _ pink_ uniforms? I had nothing to do with it!" Kurama raved mostly to himself, despairing as he finally noticed his general state of dress.

Yusuke whistled merrily as he turned his back on Kurama, plugging his ears with his pinky fingers. Kurama sighed in defeat. Indeed, it was understandably hard for them to overcome the wall of awkwardness that currently imprisoned them.

"Actually," Yusuke began quietly and suddenly as he gave Kurama a sidelong glance, his expression contemplative, "it's your hair."

"Ah! I knew it!" Kurama said as he smacked his fist onto his palm. "I always had an inkling suspicion that it was my hair. I considered cutting it, but it just seemed too practical for me to sport long hair, since I could store my demonic seeds in it before combat." He blinked as he stopped in mid-speech. "Wait. You think my hair makes me look gay?"

"Yeah. That, and you hang out with Hiei a lot," Yusuke quipped before raising both his hands up as a sort of warding gesture. "It was just a silly thought that I never took seriously. That's why I almost choked in my own spit when you mentioned that you dreamed of Hiei."

"Just try to imagine how that makes _me_ feel," Kurama remarked with a smirk before he started brooding again.

"Sooo..." Yusuke started, swallowing a bit nervously. "You're gay, huh?"

"NO!" Kurama vehemently exclaimed, before adding, "I mean, I wanted to clarify some things. I only asked because I wanted a second opinion."

Yusuke nodded slowly. "It must have took you a lot of guts to ask something that... surprising. Er, no offense, man."

"None taken," Kurama assured before bracing himself to continue. "I had a different dream earlier: about me falling for a girl I barely even knew." The redhead closed his eyes, lightly hugging himself as he visualized his tight embrace around Keiko's body. He still couldn't tell Yusuke who the 'girl' was, though.

Yusuke whooped for joy. "That's great! So you dreamt about something... straight? Problem solved! You're not gay!"

"But I discovered that, deep in my heart, it wasn't my own dream." Yusuke visibly deflated upon hearing Kurama's sentiment.

When Kurama opened his eyes again, he discovered that he was still dreaming, holding not Keiko, but Maya. However, Maya's face was curiously obscured by dark, unfathomable shadows.

Yusuke immediately perked up again. "Well then, problem still solved! Your dream about Hiei is also not 'your own dream,'" the half-demon reckoned, emphasizing the quotation marks on his highlighted phrase by gesturing them with the first two fingers of each of his hands. "You really don't have to overanalyze dreams like that. Everything's cool."

Kurama shook his head. "It's not that easy. Last time, I had to sift through my innermost thoughts and feelings to find out what was real and what wasn't. What was curious about the dreams is that a fine line was meshed between what was reality and what was fantasy."

Yusuke exhaled noisily. "So you're thinking that there's the slight chance that this dream is merely showing you that you might actually be gay?"

Kurama just stared numbly at Yusuke for a bit before concurring, "In not so many words."

Yusuke gulped as another thought occurred to him. "So have you been feeling some... ahem... gay stuff lately?"

Kurama deadpanned at Yusuke in a skeptical manner. "I'm feeling anxiety right now, but anxiety doesn't necessarily equate to any relevant emotions. I guess I'll just have to cross that bridge once I get there."

Yusuke blinked. "You're taking this well."

Kurama patted Yusuke's shoulder. "I guess I have you to thank for that. Telling you all this has lifted the huge burden from my back. Thanks!"

Yusuke just froze there as he nodded in kind. Kurama suddenly realized that they were touching each other and were real close to one another.

"What now, Kurama?" Yusuke asked nonchalantly as he kept a discreet arm's length distance from the kitsune, quelling the awkward feeling in his person.

"One thing at a time, I guess," Kurama murmured as he avoided gazing at Yusuke. "Go home, then go to sleep. If there are more dreams, then so be it."

"Look... I could still remember your homophobia rant in my head, so..." Yusuke began, visibly agitated. "Y'know, this dumb homophobe beside you may take a while to adjust if ever... y'know... things come out the way they come out." The younger boy rubbed the back of his head clumsily. "So I hope you know that I didn't mean anything by my... y'know."

"I know, Yusuke. I know," Kurama confirmed as he nodded to the younger man in acceptance. "You're doing fine. Thank you for all your support."

Kurama slipped the ticket into its designated slot as he made his way through the waiting crowd. He was about to make a beeline towards the train's automatic doors when Yusuke suddenly called out to him.

Kurama turned to face the youth. "What is it, Yusuke?"

"I still remember your response. Is it still the same as before?

Kurama blinked at Yusuke in confusion. "What response?"

"When I asked if you were gay, you practically shouted out 'No!' Many people would say that it was just denial, or it might just be an unthinking answer. But I believe that the first thing you'd answer to a question with no hesitation whatsoever is your true answer."

Kurama considered that. "But what if it wasn't my first answer? What if I was just afraid of my true answer and I just exclaimed what I wanted to hear? What if this is just your own state of denial at work? There are just too many questions that are left unanswered right now, Yusuke."

Yusuke turned serious for a moment as he looked Kurama in the eye. Kurama's heart skipped a beat at the intensity of Yusuke's stare. 'Did that mean something-my heart skipping a beat? Is it even more fodder for some hidden meaning?'

"If you were gay, it wouldn't matter. Your kaasan wouldn't really care about that. Kuwabara had suspicions about it before but he wasn't really all that worried. Hiei will probably just wonder if you can still fight if you're gay. I'll live. So do you still want to be gay?"

"No, not really."

Kurama blinked as he heard his own words. Yusuke simply nodded as he waved good-bye at the demon fox.

'I was too afraid to know the answer that I froze up whenever I thought about the question. I should just calm myself down.'

He chuckled to himself as he exhaled a relaxed sigh. 'I'm an even bigger homophobe than Yusuke is,' he thought amusedly as he made his way towards the railway transit.

* * *

Kurama stifled a gasp as he assessed his current bearings. 'This place seems very familiar to me.'

He scanned the surrounding area. True enough, the ruble and debris gave more weight to his suspicions. It was a familiar place where a battle had just recently occurred. He felt a wave of nostalgia reverberate in his psyche as he intuitively felt that somehow the surrounding area should have lot more wreckage than it already had.

'Hmmm. Why should I feel that way? What is it with all this rubble and debris anyway?' Kurama thought as he further surveyed the area. It was a narrow alley, and even though one would expect a bit of filthiness in this sort of place, it was still pretty obvious that there had been a struggle.

Upon further inspection, everything suddenly made sense in the youko's head as his mind inaudibly clicked in understanding. 'This place-this alleyway-was where I found Hiei after he first met and fought Munashii.'

Kurama checked out his immediate surroundings beyond the alley. True enough, because it was already past midnight, there was not a soul in sight. The streets were empty, slightly illuminated by what few lights remained open on this side of the city. It was an entire block of urban decay. He stared blankly at a pock-riddled wall, feeling as if somehow, something was missing. Something was different.

'Wait a minute... This wall! Isn't this the wall where Hiei was supposed to be slumped against after he was defeated by-?'

Kurama barely evaded the swift sword strike that nearly clopped off his head. He hastily wafted over the surrounding building's rooftops, his eyes wide in shock.

"Hiei?"

The kitsune suddenly leaped high from one building to another, retreating quickly as his mind was filled with a myriad of unanswered queries. The jaganshi in question charged again, waving his glinting katana ominously.

"Why are you doing this, Hiei?" Kurama demanded, the questions echoing in the entire block, the hint of worry in his voice still apparent in each and every reverberation.

The jaganshi wordlessly glared at Kurama. It wasn't a cruel, unfeeling glare that one would expect from a cold-blooded assassin. It was somehow different, with hints of... _something_ that the kitsune couldn't readily identify as of now.

Kurama didn't have time to think. He could barely follow Hiei's quick movements with his eyes. He had to act now. The youko promptly pulled a rose seed from his hair as he imbued it with his own demonic energy.

"Die," Hiei muttered simply as he hurtled towards Kurama at incredible velocity, destroying everything in his path. Only through pure reflex and skill did Kurama avoid being skewered by the apparently maniacal fire demon.

'Hiei would never attack like this; not without a reason.' Kurama looked again into Hiei's enraged eyes. 'He's not acting like himself.'

Something again clicked inside Kurama's mind. 'I see. This isn't the real Hiei. This is just a version of him in my dream.' He narrowed his eyes. 'Thankfully, this is the real me this time, and not just my fantasy self, since I am able to tell that this is all just a dream.'

Kurama swung the youki-filled rose in a crescent-shaped arc, creating a waltzing flurry of shining petals that encircled him. The fragrant and velvety Fuuka Enbujin was contrastingly sharp and deadly as shards of flying glass, capable of rendering even steel. Hiei knew of this well as he backed a couple of feet away from the deadly torrent.

'I see. So this is a dream where I have free control of both my mental and theoretically physical faculties, unlike my dream with Keiko-san, where I was somewhat powerless.' A pleased smile crept along the edges of Kurama's mouth. 'And this Hiei is just a doppelganger of sorts.'

Kurama grinned impishly before he broke into an outright chuckle. "It's about time that I had a real fight. I have had just about enough of these inane human affairs. Show me what you've got, jaganshi."

Kurama waved the rose stem once, elongating it into a thorny whip. He afterwards whirled it into a spiral, directing the deadly petals towards Hiei's diminutive form, making him back away a few more steps.

Before Kurama realized what was happening, his eyes suddenly had a malicious shimmer to it as he smirked. "At least now I'm back on familiar ground. I'm more used to this type of situation."

"Enough of this nonsense," Hiei declared darkly as his third eye abruptly opened. With his heightened senses, the jaganshi easily slashed and cut away the petals before they even touched him.

With no further hesitation or contestation, Kurama attacked.

As Hiei defended against the whip's strike, several of the untouched petals suddenly glanced and struck his forearms, creating numerous bloody wounds and gashes. Kurama then quickly retracted the whip, redirecting even more petals towards the jaganshi.

If Hiei defended against the petals, then Kurama would strike with the whip. If he instead chose to defend against the whip, then the youko would strike with the petals. It was the perfect deathtrap technique-a technique that assured a quick and efficient death.

"Humph. You fight with little uncertainty now, kitsune," Hiei hissed as he defended against the deadly shard-like petals. "You're as cruel and merciless as ever, Youko Kurama." He spat the name like it was poison.

"I have no reason to hesitate. I have nothing to debate about in my head." There was a ghost of a smile on the youko's lips as he prepared another strike. "I only have one purpose to fulfill as of this moment: To fight. It has nothing to do with mercilessness or cruelty. I only live by the moment, nothing more."

"More nonsense," Hiei growled as he simply burned the errant petals surrounding him. From there, he quickly cut the distance between him and the youko, his katana sheathed as he readied his sword-drawing stance.

'That's quite enough of that,' Kurama thought as he snapped his wrist, making the pointed end of his rose whip snake towards Hiei's back.

The fire demon just barely avoided being impaled by the sharpened tip of Kurama's favored weapon as he twisted his torso. He also blocked the remainder of the whip's attack with his half-drawn sword, shearing bits and pieces of thorn and plant fiber.

'Skillful and resourceful as ever. But those qualities won't necessarily put you on equal footing with the real thing, doppelganger.'

Kurama caught the barbed end of his rose whip with his hand as Hiei approached. He threw it again at the hurtling jaganshi, aiming it at his exposed third eye. The jaganshi merely swatted it away like a fly.

Alas, that was exactly what Kurama wanted Hiei to do. The rose whip completely surrounded the stunned Hiei like a barbed lasso. With one simple tug, it wrapped itself tightly around the dumbstruck jaganshi's body as he fell into a bloodied, torn heap.

"Your 'moment to live for' ends here," Kurama enigmatically informed as he began slipping the rose whip deeper into the fire demon's person, tearing flesh and bone. "Speak your peace before the moment is gone. Why did you attack me?"

"I won't die by your 'moment'," the jaganshi gravely vowed as he held the constricting rose whip at bay with his sword. He looked at Kurama through pained eyes, gritting his teeth as his determination brimmed to new heights.

He slashed upwards with both hands on his sword, tearing the rose whip into pieces. At a fraction of a second, before one could even retract one's eyelid to complete a blink, he was already upon Kurama, his sword aimed directly at the youko's throat.

Kurama coolly blocked the oncoming attack with the remainder of his rose whip, holding it taut with bleeding hands. He then proceeded to wrap the barbed vine all over the metal blade and, with one quick and resolute twist, broke the deadly curved sword in half.

"Disappear from my midst, doppelganger." The youko let go of the other end of the rose whip, whisking it at Hiei's cheek. The jaganshi recoiled in pain as the whiplash easily tore through his cheek's skin.

Shimmering ebony gems that clattered on the ground shook Kurama out of the ferocity of his furious counterattack. 'What is this?' He looked at Hiei's bloodied face, his tortured gaze, and his shimmering eyes.

Kurama's eyebrows went up in surprise. 'Those are... Hiei's tear gems? He cried black tear gems?' Another thought entered Kurama's stunned mind. 'He cried? Was my attack that painful?'

"It was a strike with no hesitation," Hiei remarked through a deadened gaze, the left part of his face bloodied and frayed.

'What have I done?'

Kurama's earlier lust for mindless combat melted from his gut as he recoiled in disgust of himself. 'The thrill of the fight, living by the moment... He was right. It was all nonsense. I just butchered him mindlessly.'

Kurama couldn't think-couldn't move-as he stared back numbly at Hiei's ached look, finally understanding that it wasn't caused by one of the numerous physical injuries he'd inflicted upon the youkai.

"So is this your answer, fox?" Hiei queried.

Kurama froze from his spot as he heard the words painfully echo in his psyche. He didn't know what to do anymore. He looked at the Forbidden Child, his emerald eyes reflecting the jaganshi's numbed gaze.

Kurama closed his eyes, remembering the near-sadistic cruelty he had displayed earlier: remembering the intoxicating smell of blood floating through his nose as its crimson spray mesmerized him, every droplet clear and distinguishable to his sensitive youko eyes.

It all sickened him now. Hiei's blood... the smell of it... it was all over him, revolting him further. He had hurt him. He had given the jaganshi excruciating agony. The image of Hiei's pained gaze haunted his presently unseeing eyes like no other. He felt appalled of himself.

'I could never do this. I could never hurt him in this meaningless, brutal and impetuous way. I could never hurt someone I love so much like this.' The last words Kurama uttered in his mind destroyed all of his remaining resolve to distance himself away from the dream.

He opened his eyes. Sure enough, the demon was gone. He dropped his guard down completely as he did the same with his frayed rose whip. He waited for the strike patiently, the seconds seemingly stretching forever.

He didn't even feel the sword's slash as it completed its dismal, bloody arc.

* * *

Kurama panted heavily as he finally awoke from his latest dream, his mind in shambles.

"Nothing makes sense anymore," Kurama concluded sullenly to himself as he breathed heavily. His earlier anxiety and unease had returned once more, threatening his very sanity.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Realization of Kurama's true nature.

A little extension on my usually sparse footnotes in Shonen (probably an influence of Rurouni Yahiko more than anything else ^^;), so to the regular readers of Shonen, please bear with me. I would like to dedicate this chapter to Rosethorne. This noble soul's stand on homophobia was the foremost influence on the Yusuke-Kurama debate involving the very same subject. So Rosethorne, this chapter is for you.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. But I must note that, due to the nature of this chapter, there is now some undeniable and inevitable Shonen-Ai parts in the dream sequences. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic...wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	10. Chapter 9: Taiyo

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

This is the continuation of the yaoi parody chapter. As always, there is no real yaoi content.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Taiyo**

* * *

Kurama knew that his day wasn't going to start well after last night's latest perplexing dream.

"Aw. You didn't wear the hot pink number I bought you? But it would've looked good on you, and it complimented your red hair quite well!" Kazuma Kuwabara disappointedly pouted.

Kurama's aforementioned intuition was an understatement, apparently.

Kurama boggled as he froze. Just how many of these weird dreams did he have to sleep through in one night? He afterwards blinked as his ears were suddenly assailed by Kuwabara's chortling laughter.

The amused orange-haired boy amicably slapped Kurama's back as he wiped the tears off the edges of his eyes. "Gotcha! You should have seen the look on your face! Er, nothing personal... eh, Kurama?"

Kurama coughed as if he was choking. He waved Kuwabara's concern off as he recovered from his coughing fit. He idly noted that the boy was in his casual clothes instead of his usual blue uniform; something that he wasn't used to seeing. "I'm all right. Well now, why don't we go in the coffee shop, Kuwabara-kun? Let's wait for Yusuke in there."

"I was kind of wondering what this meeting is all about," Kuwabara contemplated. His features suddenly turned grim. "Is it about that fucking bastard Munashii?" The taller boy spat the words like venomous toxin.

It was in the same manner Hiei spewed out Kurama's name in his most recent dream.

Kurama decided that he had no time to meander about... that. 'Like I said to Yusuke, I'll just have to cross that bridge when I get there.' To Kuwabara, he offered a wan smile, revealing, "It's partly about him, if you must know."

Kuwabara just nodded dourly as he wordlessly followed the youko into the small restaurant. Kurama silently kept to himself in respect to Kuwabara's quiet reckonings.

"So what _is_ the main topic of our little chitchat, Kurama?" the teen with the carroty-colored hair inquired as they finally took their seats, toothily grinning like the bastard child of a hyena and a shark.

Kurama noted that Kuwabara seemed to have already recovered from his brief bout of angst. 'My, my. Such a tenacious fellow you are, Kuwabara-kun.'

"We're not going to talk about your love life, are we?" Kuwabara sniggered. "So how is Hiei doing nowadays?"

'Too tenacious,' Kurama summarily concluded to himself. 'A bit of depression won't hurt him. It builds character, and it'll keep him quiet to boot.'

Kuwabara burst into laughter again. "I was just joking, Kurama! Don't get your panties up in a bunch." There was a moment of silence before the inevitable hilarity ensued-at least from Kuwabara's point of view. "I'm sorry! Hihihi! Oooh, my sides hurt."

Kurama just sighed as he browsed through the menu. 'Well now, Yusuke was right about Kuwabara not being too uncomfortable with... issues concerning alternative lifestyles. And at the very least he's not getting too personal.'

Kurama was aware of Kuwabara's occasional pokes at his manliness-in fact, ever since they met at the Four Guardian Beasts' tower, the rowdy teenager had always been like this. Kurama never took those jokes seriously, letting them slide down his back with a smile and a shrug. But with the unique situation he was in right now, he had to wonder: Did Kuwabara know him more than he knew himself?

The youko put such contemplations to rest after seeing said boy ogle over a couple of waitresses, drooling. 'Or I could be over-thinking things again,' Kurama mused.

"So what now, Kurama? Did you get any new leads on that bastard? Three months and we haven't heard a peep from Botan or from the brat." Kuwabara slammed his hands on the table in a show of enthusiasm. "We have to do something-anything! We can't just sit down and watch that jackass slowly wreck our lives! We need action."

"It isn't just about Munashii, Kuwabara-kun. It's about me." And Kurama left it at that.

Kuwabara merely sat there, mouth slightly agape, as he eagerly awaited Kurama's response. That, or he was looking at one of the waitresses again.

Kurama wished his next response would contain words that wouldn't have any humiliating connotations; an answer that wouldn't compromise his self-respect and dignity; an answer that wasn't so hazily ambiguous yet also wasn't so crudely blunt.

"Gay or not gay?"

That was a textbook example of straightforwardness. "W-What?" Kurama managed to sputter.

Kuwabara pointed at one of the waitresses discreetly. "She kind of looks... mannish, don't you think? She has muscles that I'd expect to see from Toguro."

"I... see." Kurama sweatdropped, not bothering to look at the direction Kuwabara was indicating. The youko knew that they were going nowhere with this kind of roundabout conversation, so he jumped the gun and queried, "Kuwabara, I know this may sound weird, but do I look gay to you?"

Kuwabara thought for all of three seconds before replying, "Of course you do."

Kurama breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to... WHAT?"

Kuwabara nodded sagely. "And I finally understand the whole setup of this little date of sorts. Even though you invited Yusuke, I know what's really going on. Don't worry, it's all right for you to have a crush on me and everything, but I have to make it clear to you that I don't swing that way," he surmised in all seriousness.

"Oh," Kurama simply responded, not quite able to follow what was being discussed. He again found himself struggling for a much more substantial reply to Kuwabara's queries, but it was more of not knowing what to reply rather than how to reply.

"So what's up?" a voice from behind the two teenagers nonchalantly greeted.

"Urameshi! It's about time you got here! Sit down with us!" Kuwabara hailed friendlily. "Kurama just confessed to me that he's gay and that we're all on a date."

Kurama rubbed his temples as a headache assailed his sensitive youko senses. It was a welcome headache amidst the indescribable pain the situation at hand was giving his brain. He sighed as he attempted to correct some of Kuwabara's incorrect assumptions, feeling that somehow the day seemed to get longer, and longer, and longer.

* * *

"So," Kuwabara slowly started as he attempted to mentally digest everything Kurama had just related to him, thusly giving him the mental equivalent of heartburn, "let me get this straight... You're not?"

Kurama briefly wondered why he let Kuwabara join this impromptu meeting in the first place. Perhaps mental shock from last night's latest nightmare was to blame, but it was also due to the fact that he didn't want the homophobic Yusuke to feel too uncomfortable discussing the whole thing with just the two of them together. The thought also left him feeling a bit anxious, because his unease from last night hadn't quite left him yet.

"I wouldn't say that per se, Kuwabara-kun," Kurama calmly said as he quietly sipped his iced tea. How he wished that he felt as calm as he looked.

"..." Yusuke said.

"Well then, let's recap. You first dreamed about a girl. Right, Kurama?"

Kurama nodded, absently glancing at Yusuke. He sighed, knowing that it was probably in Yusuke's best interest never to know the fact that the girl he dreamt of was actually Keiko. "But I then realized that it wasn't really my dream."

"In other words, you didn't really like the girl romantically, right?" Kuwabara speculated as he lightly tapped his chin with his finger.

"No, of course not," Kurama almost automatically agreed, eyeing Yusuke warily as though the half-youkai already knew about the forbidden fantasy.

"..." Yusuke exclaimed, idly cracking his knuckles. Kurama almost flinched at the sleek-haired boy in trepidation until he saw the bored look on his face.

Kuwabara gave Kurama a curious look, noticing the strange way the demon fox was acting. He shrugged the feeling off as he continued with the conversation, stating, "That's before you dreamt about your manly love-love with Hiei, right?"

Kurama's left eyebrow twitched slightly. "We only shared a kiss, Kuwabara-kun," he calmly stated, mentally wincing as he hoped the statement didn't sound as damning as it did.

"No need to get catty. You can call it whatever you want," Kuwabara assured, making Kurama feel anything but.

"..." Yusuke affirmed.

Feeling Kurama's glare-hidden in a plastered, polite smile that somehow made it all the more scarier-Kuwabara hastily resumed. "You're now hoping that somehow that dream has a deeper meaning than closeted queerness... Ain't that so?"

Kurama rubbed his temples idly as he smiled enigmatically, making Kuwabara sweat and shudder. "Mostly right, Kuwabara-kun," the kitsune hissed through gritted teeth, smiling all the way.

Kuwabara rubbed his head awkwardly. "Well, I hope you don't hang me on a tree with your rose whip or anything, but all three of those dreams suggest the same thing: That you're a bona fide, whipped and tied...!"

"DON'T we have any other answers? Any other alternatives?" Kurama interrupted, still smiling sweetly. "I'm open to any suggestions."

"If I have any, I'll gladly tell you, man. But nothing comes to mind," Kuwabara admitted, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "See here, you dreamt about a girl that you ultimately dumped, then you dreamed about Hiei twice in very suggestive terms. What _else_ could it be other than... y'know... the 'g' word?"

Kurama nearly let out a feral growl, but he still caught himself. "You don't have to say it like that. I can take it."

Kuwabara whispered discreetly, "I said it that way for our mutual homophobic friend's sake. _He's_ not taking things too well," glancing towards the sleek-haired boy's direction. The half-demon was finding his cup of cappuccino very interesting and exciting as he swirled its contents with a plastic spoon. "See what I mean?"

Kurama sighed. Maybe he shouldn't have asked Yusuke to come to this meeting in the first place. On the other hand, Kuwabara would have mistaken the gesture as something else. He shuddered at the thought. "I don't see what makes you so convinced that it's all about," he peeked briefly at Yusuke, "the 'g' word."

Kuwabara shook his head sadly, smirking. "Don't you see the painfully obvious, Kurama? Look at your clothes. Look at your hair. Look at that face. Your beauty rivals that of Botan and Keiko. Of course, you couldn't possibly be as cute as Yukina-san. She's beyond cute!"

Kurama pouted as he heard the words. 'Frowned! I frowned as I heard the words! I do not pout!' He addressed Kuwabara directly, saying, "My looks have nothing to do with anything. I can't help the way that I dress, my mother picks my clothes. And the hair... Let's not go there."

"Fine, fine! Fair enough. But let me ask you something, Kurama; just how many girls are you close with? I'm not talking about Keiko and company, I'm talking about the girls at Meiou," Kuwabara inquired, looking as if he already knew the answer.

"Well, actually, I'm close with a lot of girls in school," Kurama replied, not sure how this piece of information could incriminate him.

"And boys? Again, in school, not the Spirit World people."

Kurama shrugged. "I'm not close with many boys in school. My interests and their interests are completely different." He didn't know where the conversation was going. He thought that not being close to many boys was a good thing when trying to prove that you weren't attracted to them.

Kuwabara seemed to contemplate this carefully. "I see. And did you have any girlfriends at all? I'm not talking about friends that are female, I'm talking about the kind of Human World relationship that develops from courtship and usually results in either mating or matrimony," the robust teen chattered, mimicking Kurama's usual speech pattern for effect.

Kurama thought about Maya Kitajima briefly, but then thought the better of it. After all, he was the one that insisted that they shouldn't have a relationship. "No, not really."

"I knew it," Kuwabara remarked smugly. "Kurama, you're the classic example of a closeted, er, 'g' person."

Kurama narrowed his eyes, all pretenses of goodwill leaving him in an instant. "Explain."

Kuwabara once more put his hands up in surrender. "Nothing personal, Kurama, but you don't have any close male friends in school. From that fact, I presume that you don't have any actual sport you're interested in, unless gardening is a sport. Then you hang out with girls; girls you aren't romantically attracted to! You have the looks that can attract girls like flies to really foul-smelling stuff and yet you aren't interested in any of them! If that's not 'g', then I don't know what is!" he glibly elucidated.

Kurama wanted to rebut, to protest, and to retort, but he didn't have the grounds to do so. As much as he hated to admit it, Kuwabara had a point-also an oxymoron, but again, he digressed. He just never thought of it that way before. He _knew_ that he acted far different from the people at Meiou, but not the sort of 'different' that would result to this kind of conclusion. Yet it didn't mean that he wouldn't try to rebut, to protest, and to retort.

"That's nonsense! I'm not attracted to boys! I'm fairly sure that I'm not attracted to either one of you two."

Kuwabara shook his head again, as if patronizing Kurama's answer. "Of course not. But how do you feel about Hiei?"

Kurama was shocked; shocked that out of all people, Kuwabara was able to throw his own words back at him. Again, he had underestimated the teen's debatable debating abilities.

"_How_ do you feel about Hiei, Kurama?" Kuwabara prodded as Kurama remained silent, his face unreadable. "It isn't about liking boys in the plural sense. One boy is all it takes."

"It's not like that! I may be close to Hiei as a _friend_, but I don't-feel that way about him. I may... love him, but I love kaasan as well! This isn't about romance!" Kurama couldn't help but exclaim. "I don't like the fact that these... dreams are using half-truths against me, making me think things I normally don't think about, and feel things I don't usually feel! I'm not gay, Kuwabara!"

The redhead and the carrot top suddenly went silent as Yusuke slammed both his hands on the table, startling the both of them and a few nearby patrons.

"Uh-oh. You said the 'g' word," Kuwabara whispered to Kurama, not taking his eyes away from his agitated and homophobic half-demon friend.

"So your answer is still the same, Kurama," Yusuke declared fervently, pointing at the youko with equal passion. "But you don't seem to like simple answers, since you're such a complicated guy to begin with."

Yusuke unceremoniously grabbed his two companions, dragging them away from the cafe despite their mutual protests (mutual _unsaid_ protests, seeing that a determined Yusuke was someone that shouldn't be messed with). "There's only one thing to do, Kurama. We'll have to make a true man out of you!"

"Eh?" Kurama blurted austerely. "But we haven't paid the bill yet, Yusuke!"

* * *

Kurama merely _stared_ at the excited Yusuke as he entered the half-demon's room, with Kuwabara following close behind. He raised an eyebrow at the general state of the room; dirty laundry strewn all over the place, along with numerous other additions to the pile that hid the fact that the room even had a floor. "Where's your mom, Yusuke?"

"Wouldn't you know it, she's in a bar somewhere," Yusuke reported exasperatedly. "She claims to remain awake all night worrying about me during my month-long stay at Granny Genkai's, but once I returned home, it's now her turn to disappear, probably drinking to her liver's content at some bar! Parents just don't make sense at all!" he bemoaned before exclaiming, "Yeah! Here we go! The mother load!"

Kurama looked over Yusuke's shoulder in curiosity. "What did you find, Yusuke?" The youko afterwards blushed at the picture before him.

Yusuke was holding a glossy magazine centerfold photo of a girl in a tight-fitting black body stocking with holes at certain places that defeated its purpose of concealment. Kurama not-so-idly noted that the girl was... shaved.

"SU-WEET!" Kuwabara exclaimed as he drooled over the picture. "That girl is cute! She kinda looks like Keiko, though."

Thusly, Kuwabara was beaten within an inch of his life.

'He always does know the right things to say at the wrong time,' Kurama mused, feeling that he should somehow pity the boy, but couldn't find it in his heart to do so, especially with the treatment he'd gotten at the coffee shop earlier.

Surprisingly, Kuwabara quickly recovered from the savage beating, which was rather typical, really, since he was always at the receiving end of Yusuke's fists. "Sorry, man. I didn't know you'd be so touchy about it."

The curly-haired boy suddenly perked up as he leafed through the many stacks of magazines. "Wow, you were really collecting a lot of porno. This is literally a lifetime supply! So that's where you spent all the lunch money you've stolen since grade school!"

Yusuke nodded smugly.

"If you really have such a big collection, then you must have the 'must-have' issue of Tokyo Kuro!" Kuwabara proposed dramatically while Kurama just stared at the two excited little boys blankly.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about, Kuwabara. You couldn't possibly be referring to the rare issue of Tokyo Kuro where the fan favorite, would-have-been pop idol Sora Iori was in, could you?" Yusuke supposed. "Here," he deadpanned as he casually tossed a mint condition magazine at Kuwabara's direction, smirking.

"I don't believe it. I've been looking for this for years!" Kuwabara choked in awe as he cried manly tears. "You really do have the most complete and comprehensive collection of porno from all the boys at Sarayashiki Junior High! You are a porno god!"

Yusuke laughed in a self-aggrandizing way. In other words, he laughed like he was really full of it, which he was. "Really now? Of course you'd say that."

"Umm, excuse me," Kurama ventured as he lightly tapped both of the boys on the shoulder. Eliciting a response, he continued, "It may be silly of me to say so, but I have to be frank. I don't see the point."

Both of the two Sarayashiki Junior High students mutually sighed in dismay. Kuwabara was the first one to respond to Kurama's admission.

"I can't believe that you'd disregard high-quality porno like these, Kurama! Rare celebrity nudes, panty slips, topless beach bitches-photos that you were never meant to see!" Kuwabara absently wiped the drool off his mouth. "This is a treasure trove you're flippantly ignoring!"

Kurama decided then and there that Kuwabara was a pervert. "But what about your 'noble' feelings for Yukina? Aren't you betraying her by looking at pictures of other naked girls?"

Kuwabara blushed in spite of himself. "I'm not! This is different." He adopted a tone that reminded Kurama of his kaasan whenever she was explaining some sort of weird human behavior to the youko. "Just because I look at other women doesn't necessarily mean I'm betraying Yukina-san! I think it's in a man's genetic makeup to look at other women. It's in our DNA to look at T&A," he concluded, nodding sagely.

Kurama mentally noted that the orange-haired boy's statement was a strange declaration to nod sagely to.

Yusuke slung his arm over Kurama's shoulder as he pointed at yet another magazine picture of girls in rather compromising positions. "Look at that, Kurama. How do you like them pretty, naked girls?"

Kurama soundly blinked, looking apprehensive. "Well, they are pretty naked."

Kuwabara picked up several other magazines. One was entitled "Barely Legal" while the other was headlined "Hot Mommas". He waved them at the youko's face excitedly, asking, "Do you like hot mommas with big boobs or cute li'l girls with equally cute li'l tits?"

Kurama swallowed in embarrassment. "That question is a little too crude for me to answer, Kuwabara-kun."

Yusuke exhaled dejectedly as he put the magazines down. "Okay, Kurama. What _do_ you like about girls? I'm curious... I really am."

Kurama went silent for exactly one minute before he responded, "Um, I usually like a girl for her mind?"

Everyone fell silent for perpetuity contained within an awkward moment.

"I told you he was gay," Kuwabara informed Yusuke in a whisper loud enough to defeat its purpose.

* * *

The three Spirit Detectives, deciding that the stuffy environment of Yusuke's room-not to mention the uncomfortable discomfiture that was now associated with said room herewith-was severely delaying their little quest for Kurama's manhood, went out for a stroll in the park.

Yusuke gestured with his darting eyes at a woman jogger while Kuwabara stupidly grinned. Kurama, for the life of him, couldn't even follow what his friend was gesturing at, mistaking the gesture as a manifestation of some sort of human disease instead. These humans were truly queer creatures indeed. 'Strange. I meant humans are... Never mind.'

"Well, what do you think?" Yusuke asked subtly as he checked out the woman's retreating form, particularly her confectionary posterior.

"I'd give her a 7.5, give or take a notch," Kuwabara answered. "I particularly like my girls cute and innocent. She looked old enough to be your mom, Yusuke."

"Feh. You're just a Lolita perv. I bet you get off on little girls named Tomoyo," Yusuke contemptuously rejoined.

"I don't know about that. For one thing, I think your mom's quite hot," Kuwabara retorted nastily, which made Kurama wrinkle his nose in faint disgust.

"Up yours! Stop fantasizing about my mom, you jackass," Yusuke rejoined, revolted. He contemplatively added, "In fairness, she did have a sweet piece of-"

"Yusuke! How could you say that about your mom?" Kurama berated the errant Spirit Detective.

Yusuke intoned flatly, "I was talking about the woman jogger from before."

"Oh. Go on with your little game, then."

Kurama blinked as the two Sarayashiki Junior High students again sighed at him in unison. 'What'd I do this time?'

"Kurama," Yusuke started, perfectly mimicking Kuwabara's patronizing voice from before, "we know you're intelligent and all, but when it comes to things like this, you're clueless. You just don't see the big picture." Kuwabara just nodded affirmatively to everything Yusuke said, effectively outvoting the youko two-to-one.

"I don't get it, Kurama. You're a good-looking fellow; a pretty boy, in fact," Kuwabara chimed in, scratching the back of his head to illustrate his confusion. "But all indications just lead to one conclusion: with the way you can relate with girls and can't relate with boys, the answer should be pretty obvious."

"I for one don't see acting in what I consider as gentlemanly conduct for a human boy and respecting women's rights as... unmanly," Kurama interjected in his own defense, since not one of his so-called friends were particularly interested in defending his manhood. "And just because I can't relate to a majority of males doesn't mean that I'm unmanly. So I don't fit in; I'll be the first one to admit that. But it would be overkill to interpret the fact as a result of unmanliness in my part."

"Yeah, what he said," Yusuke bleated, not completely following everything that Kurama had said. Like the half-demon had mentioned before, the youko was a very complicated guy. "But I can see Kuwabara's point," he added, mainly because he couldn't understand Kurama's point for the life of him.

"You did at least have a girlfriend, right? Or maybe even a significant other? Someone you had a mutual understanding with? Anyone?" Yusuke asked the youko desperately. "There has to be at least _one_, right?"

Kurama had a wistful look in his eyes as he answered, "Yeah. Once. Though it didn't quite work out." He sighed. 'I couldn't say that you were actually my girlfriend, Maya-san; but you were definitely special to me.'

Yusuke nodded resolutely. "See, Kuwabara? He's not totally gay," the sleek-haired teen smugly boasted while Kurama inwardly groaned at the backhanded praise.

Kuwabara looked considerate for a bit before asking, "Did you dump the girl before or _after_ you met Hiei?" He emphasized a certain word in that sentence as if he already knew the answer.

Kurama sulked. "You're not helping, Kuwabara-kun."

"Kurama's a pretty boy, Kuwabara. You said so yourself," Yusuke asserted determinedly, leaving his two other companions confused at how the contention could actually help in their little debate. Nonetheless, the half-demon persisted, "And from what I saw back there at Meiou when I visited-"

"You mean after you cut classes," Kuwabara and Kurama chorused to Yusuke in perfect unison, with most everything in the mutual act identical, right down to the monotone and their deadpanned faces.

"Whatever. Anyway, from what I saw back in Meiou, you were quite the heartbreak kid. Women were practically flocking you from all directions, calling you 'Minamino-sama' and stuff. It looked like they had an entire organization devoted to you! They were worshipping you like a god, Kurama! A god!" Yusuke grinned lecherously. "How many of them have you slept with?"

"I'm not that kind of guy!" Kurama protested.

"Hey, hey, Urameshi. You must be exaggerating," Kuwabara scoffed in disbelief. "He may look pretty, but how could an effeminate face like this... no offense, Kurama... be the object of many a girl's affection? I was running under the assumption that girls didn't want to get hitched to a guy who's much prettier than they are. Kurama, Urameshi's exaggerating, isn't he?"

Kurama's eyes darted back and forth, as if he was asked the 'g' question again. "Um... right. Sort of."

"Come on. Don't act like that. That sort of behavior is the reason why people think you're gay in the first place," Kuwabara declared as he patted Kurama's head deferentially. "So a few girls made a li'l fan club in honor of you. You should be flattered. Don't act as if you have a tree branch stuck up your butt. That's not another gay joke, if you have to ask. How bad can a few girls worshipping you possibly be?"

From there, as if on cue, a quirk of fate happened.

* * *

"This annual summer picnic for the Legion was a great idea, president!" a girl practically beamed at the gaudily dressed Chiho Sasae; that was, the official president of the 'Legion of Minamino-sama' was now even more gaudily dressed than usual since it was the start of the summer vacation and she didn't need to follow the strict and stiff rules concerning school attire.

"Of course, of course! A picnic of this proportion is no problem at all, because even if there's just a tenth of us paying for the club fund, we'll still have more than enough money to stage this event," Chiho declared, her pointer finger pointed up as she posed in a dramatic fashion. "Isn't that right, Midori-chan?"

Midori Ohya looked a bit distracted as she stared into the horizon, sighing thoughtfully as the midday sun glinted on her coke-bottle glasses. Chiho coughed once to get the attention of the mousy girl.

"Yes, we can get more money with just one-tenth of us paying the club fund compared to all the third-year classes' club funds combined. The fact that more than half of us are more than willing to pay for our club fund speaks for itself," Midori automatically stated without missing a beat, as though she was used to being asked that question; being that she was the unofficial secretary and treasurer of the club, it shouldn't come as a shock. She afterwards continued to pensively look into the horizon.

"That is so cool, president!" another girl exclaimed exuberantly. She was accessorized in the same manner Chiho was. Actually, nearly all of the girls near the Legion president, with the distinct exception of Midori, were dressed like the object of their fondness. "Everything you do is so cool! You're almost as cool as Minamino-san!"

"Now, now. Don't say such silly things!" Chiho tactfully berated her little doppelganger posse, sweatdropping. 'I hate to say this, but sometimes I could really relate to Minamino-sama's situation,' she thought as she daintily wiped the perspiration off of her brow, pouting elegantly.

"It's so hot out! We need umbrellas here! Can one of you please get an umbrella from the Minamino dress-alike people over there?" Chiho politely asked as she exquisitely waved a folding paper fan on her face, pointing to a group of girls who were, strangely enough, cross-dressing in Meiou's assigned male school uniform.

One of the members of Chiho's little 'fan club within a fan club' scurried towards the cross-dressers, a look of disdain apparent in her features and body language as she approached them. Chiho herself delicately wrinkled her nose in slight revulsion. 'Cross-dressing butches using the club as a means to come out of the closet; what is the world coming to?' But even Chiho had to admit that some of the cross-dressers looked kind of chic with their mannish threads. Chiho sighed as her mood turned contemplative.

The Legion; there was a reason behind the name. It wasn't just a moniker Chiho thought up for the hell of it. The club literally was a legion. They were groups within a large group, all unifying into one body, one organization. 'What were the different groups again?' Chiho wondered idly.

There were the aforementioned cross-dressers: people who liked the way Minamino carried his uniform, looking both fashionable and cool at the same time, carrying Minamino-sama worship to 'another level.' Then there was the freshmen group, composed of not only the first years, but several junior high students that weren't even in Meiou. Then there were the sophomores and the seniors, the Fashion Club which was Chiho's original club before it was inevitably 'absorbed' by the Legion, the J-Pop Club that desperately wanted to jumpstart Minamino's 'career' as a pop idol, the Yaoi Club that wanted Minamino to finally 'come out' and some such-Chiho personally liked that group-and even a Paranormal Club that kept on insisting that Minamino was actually a youko taking residence in the body of a human, of all the nonsense. Minamino's appeal apparently catered to even the lowest common denominator, it seemed.

It was tough work, but somehow Chiho had organized everything and everyone within the Legion, making them a formidable force to be reckoned with. There were times when Chiho wondered if the Legion was even bigger than Minamino himself; bigger than the very reason for the club's existence.

"Chiho-san, I don't mean to be rude, but it seemed to me that you were a bit harsh on Ayame-san yesterday. I think you should apologize."

The statement was mentioned so softly and quietly that the Legion president idly wondered if she were hearing things. "What was that, Midori-chan?" Midori repeated the statement more softly than before, making Chiho frown. By the third repeat, the flashy girl waved the gentle girl off flippantly.

"I heard you the second time, Midori," Chiho snapped, not bothering to put honorifics after the addressee's name. She frowned when it didn't elicit the desired reaction from Midori. "Well, I don't see what I should be so sorry about. Besides, she didn't even attend today's assembly-practically a Legion tradition! Now that's rude."

"True, but she just doesn't want to think about Minamino-san right now."

"That's not my problem. She knew that Minamino was going to dump her. She knew a relationship with him was doomed from the start. She asked for it, and now she's bawling her eyes out because of it. I warned her as a good friend, and then as the president of the Legion. She didn't even bother to listen. I don't see why I should further concern myself with her trivial problems. She should just deal with it."

Midori bowed her head low. "That's so cruel."

Chiho snorted derisively. "Tough."

There was a considerable pause before Midori spoke again, this time with such vehemence and spite that it startled even the usually unflappable Chiho.

"So the way you reacted towards Minamino-san after he dumped you is better? You knew you could never have him, so instead you created an organization dedicated to him so that you could cover up the fact that for once you didn't get what you want?"

Chiho looked at the gentle girl confusedly. "What has gotten into you, Midori?"

Midori carried on as though Chiho never spoke. "Then you even created a yaoi fixation to put yourself into further denial. You wanted Minamino-san to turn into an unreachable sort of ideal, to convince everyone of the fact. 'If I can't get Minamino-san, then no one can.' Was that your unsaid motto? Tell me, is your way of handling your rejection from Minamino-san any better than Ayame-san's?"

Chiho answered Midori's question with a resounding slap.

Midori's glasses tumbled on the soft grass as a stinging, bright red handprint formed on her cheek. Chiho looked like she was about to say something when they both heard an excited shout that put the rest of the Legion in frenzied realization.

"Hey! Isn't that Minamino Shuichi sitting on the bench over there with those two other guys?"

There was a shocked silence before chaos erupted that afternoon in the otherwise quiet park.

* * *

"Minamino-san! Who are those people you're with? Are they your lovers? Hey, Minamino-san!"

"Shut up! Minamino-kun isn't gay. Aren't you, Minamino-kun? MINAMINO-KUN!"

"Minamino Shuichi... No, Youko Kurama! Show these disbelievers in our midst your youko self by transforming into your true form right now!"

"Minamino-sempai, I'll be turning fifteen next week! I can now love you not just as a girl, but as a woman!"

"Minamino-kun, we love what you're wearing! What's the brand of your khakis?"

"Minamino-san, you're going be the biggest thing since L'arc! Can we have your autograph before you become famous?"

"Minamino-sama, stop! Stop in the name of love!"

"Get your filthy claws off poor Minamino-sama, you harlots! He should fly free like a butterfly! Fly, Minamino-sama, fly!"

"Minamino-kun! I love you! Marry me!"

Kurama thought that the last statement should have been the least disturbing of all the contending statements, but the fact that it was said by a formerly male teacher-meaning he was now a 'female' teacher-from his grade school had instead put the declaration in his "Top Ten Disturbing Things the Legion has said to me" list. But he had no time to think about that. In fact, he had no time to think about anything else other than running for his pitiful life.

"Kurama does have a lot of nutty admirers here, doesn't he?" Kuwabara understated as he 'wheezed' his way into a suburban road.

"Gee, ya think?" was the unstated statement of the two companions of the tall, brawny and... through unsaid opinions of the very same companions... dumb teen.

"Well, I guess that takes care of the gay issue," Yusuke concluded while he started to pummel several nearing students who were curiously in male school uniforms, despite the fact that it was already summer.

"Yusuke! Don't knock my schoolmates out!" Kurama yelped in protest.

"Hey! They were getting close! And I only punched those weird male classmates of yours that kinda look like you. I didn't punch any girls," Yusuke retorted as he hit another pursuer in the gut.

"Actually, those were some of my cross-dressing girl classmates," Kurama lamented quietly as he avoided the amorous advance of the teacher that proposed to him just moments ago.

"Oh," Yusuke mumbled as he looked at the person he currently held in a submission hold. He grabbed the person's crotch briefly before he sheepishly confirmed, "So she is," which earned him rather painful bitch slaps and colorful nicknames from the now-confirmed female cross-dresser. The Spirit Detective then had an idea as he rubbed his sore and scratched cheeks.

Yusuke, with a brief apology, shoved the protesting Kurama doppelganger towards the excited mob while he motioned for his other cohorts to follow him into an unseen alleyway.

The horde, thinking that the poor girl the half-demon pushed towards them was actually the real Kurama, gave chase to her instead and ignored their real object of affection.

The three Spirit Detectives remained mostly quiet for quite a while, the occasional pant, wheeze, and gasp the only noises breaking the silence. When they finally caught up with their breaths, Yusuke was the first to speak.

"Did you see that, Kuwabara?" he said through gasping breaths. "If a gaggle of girls chasing after him wasn't an indication of pure, in-your-face heterosexuality, then I don't know what is."

"On the other hand, Urameshi, the gay issue isn't necessarily over," Kuwabara quibbled, his constant wheezing almost bordering asthmatic. "Think about it. For these girls, Kurama is the most sophisticated, handsome, dignified, and righteous guy around. I bet he'd go out of his way to help any girl in need and do it on principle rather than as a way of trying to impress them and get into their panties. The fact that he makes himself openly and suspiciously unavailable makes him even more irresistible to some girls. Why do you think bishonen guys are so popular with girls?"

"Because they're good-looking, they have all that emotionality and sensitivity going for them and they're _straight_," Yusuke answered unwaveringly.

"No, they're not! It's because they do other guys, which is a turn-on for some girls, for some unfathomable reason!" Kuwabara insisted.

And so the conversation was reduced to childish playground drivel.

"Straight!"

"Gay!"

"Straight!"

"Gay!"

"Straight-Hey, Kurama! Where are you going?"

"Somewhere... anywhere else," Kurama spoke through tired tones. "I really appreciate all the... help you've given me, but I think I have had enough help for one day. Besides, it's getting dark. You two minors better get home before your mothers get worried about you."

"But Kurama..." the two teens whined, which made them sound more like preschoolers.

Kurama rubbed his temples, ignoring the two teenagers' protests. He easily leaped away from building to building, gliding through the darkening streets, his head clear for the first time since last night's dream. He smiled a little as he glanced back at the direction of the two teenagers. They were probably still debating over his supposedly questionable sexuality. He chuckled. He was tired, but in a good way.

Kurama's little impromptu marathon had taught him a valuable lesson. The different assortment of people chasing after him with all their weird and wonderful personalities clashing against each other-and even the way Kuwabara and Yusuke's opinions conflicted with his own-had shown him the wisdom of the ages, all contained within one phrase: "To each his own."

'I've been griping about this and that, not looking at the big picture. Yusuke's simple answer won't work for me because I'm not that simple. Kuwabara's answer won't work for me because his definition of masculinity is different from mine. The opinions the Legion hold about me are both half-truths and half-presumptions. No, these aren't the answers I'm looking for.'

Kurama's eyes suddenly glinted determinedly. 'I'll just have to find my own answer.'

* * *

Seconds ticked as Kurama stared wordlessly at the doorknob. He heaved a heavy sigh as he finally allowed himself to contemplate the situation, revealing his innermost insights.

'I should just open the door. Whether or not Hiei is there, the fact remains true: This is still my room. I'll understand if he hasn't come back yet. After all, he is trying to protect me from a soul-sucking nonentity. That warrants as a valid excuse for his extended absence.'

Kurama felt a strange sense of deja vu as he opened the door and went in his sparsely furnished quarters. He felt himself carefully avoid looking directly at the room, a fear of loneliness creeping inside his heart.

Kurama narrowed his eyes. 'It's the same dream; the first dream I had about... Hiei. Yes, the one where I kissed him. This is the one,' he thought without hesitation or uncertainty. He would not allow the dream to control him anymore. He would overcome this dream just as he had with his dream about Keiko.

"Hey, kitsune. What's with that pensive look on your face?" Hiei scoffed in his usual stoic voice as he idly polished his long and deadly katana, his mostly raven-black hair wafting through the summer breeze.

'And there he is,' Kurama thought as he took a deep breath, bracing himself for anything. Was there going to be a fight again, like in his dream last night? Or was it going to be exactly like his dream the day before? All he could do was prepare himself.

Hiei suddenly stepped down from his precarious perch on the windowsill and unabashedly held the youko at his arm's length.

'Here we go again,' Kurama determined as his heart palpitated, his unease nearly rising to panic. 'Remember, Kurama; there's a thin line between what's voluntary and what's involuntary here in this dream world. There are things you're responsible for and things you're not responsible for. Just relax and take deep breaths. Everything is going to be fine.'

"What the hell happened to you, kitsune?" Hiei demanded as he wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You look like hell. Your clothes are ripped in places."

Kurama looked at himself in shock and surprise. 'How did I get these lothes ripped? Something must have happened earlier. Or maybe it's something that happened in the dream. Maybe it's some sort of symbolism that totally went over my head. I can't be completely sure.'

Then Kurama looked at Hiei, who was in a similar state, except there were what appeared to be rope burns on his hands and bite marks on his neck. 'Bite marks? Rope burns? What...?' That was when a stray memory of one of Kuwabara's offbeat 'g' jokes came to Kurama's mind. Some joke about rope burn and bite marks.

Kurama boggled in spite of himself. Rope burns and bite marks; their mutually disheveled and ripped clothing; the fact that the youko couldn't remember what happened earlier. 'Oh, this dream just gets more and more perverted every time. Why? Why do I have to go through this?'

Hiei waved his hand curiously at the kitsune, his eyes wide and quizzical. "You're acting weirder than usual, fox. You didn't even seem surprised to see me. Were you expecting me?"

Kurama gave Hiei a token plastered smile as he shrugged helplessly. "Sort of."

Hiei let go of Kurama as another thought entered his mind. "Did Munashii do this to you? Don't lie. Never mind all your martyrdom nonsense, the puppet owes me a lot."

Kurama absently waved Hiei off. "Oh, no! No! Nothing of the sort happened. I'm fine." The youko felt like he had forgotten something important, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. 'Damn. What if it's something important? What if this dream world is blocking my memory somehow so that it can have its way with me? I can't allow that. Think: What did I forget?'

Hiei shrugged and snorted derisively. "Anyway, what do you think of my sword?"

"Why would you want to know what I think about your sword?" Kurama nearly yelped at the fire demon as he looked away, embarrassed. 'All these innuendoes will be the death of me. This dream is starting to become the worst of the lot.'

Hiei continued, unconcerned with the youko's outburst. "Do you have that human invention... paper towels? And perhaps some of that grease you put on your skin? I need them to polish my sword."

Kurama just stared at the floor, shuddering slightly as unbidden dirty thoughts entered his mind. 'Is this your divine retribution at work, Kuronue? Must you haunt me in this dream as well, old friend? You're not jealous of Hiei, are you? He's two feet shorter than you.'

"Kurama," Hiei beckoned, slightly perturbed as he unsheathed his long, metallic and slightly rusted sword. "You're dithering again." 'Oh. He really was going to polish his sword,' Kurama surmised numbly before realization struck him hard. His face turned almost as red as his hair in his mortification and embarrassment.

Hiei saw the way Kurama was intently staring at his sword, so he coughed once to get the youko's attention before he gave his explanations. "The human's blood from three months ago rusted this sword good. I tried to have it re-tempered in the Demon World, but I suddenly ran into a couple of my old... acquaintances."

Kurama nodded in understanding as everything suddenly made sense. His ripped clothes were the Legion's work, not Hiei's; and the so-called 'acquaintances' the jaganshi mentioned were probably responsible for his disheveled state. So this 'dream' he was having wasn't actually a-

Kurama seemed to blank out for a bit as his whole world suddenly spun around him, the voice in his head suddenly becoming a murmur, his room a swirling blur.

* * *

"What's this about?" Kurama asked as he came to, startled. 'Can't believe I blanked out like that. What happened?'

"Humph. Just shut up." Getting his desired response, Hiei seemed to brace himself as he seemingly tried to collect the courage to say something. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Kurama blinked several times before responding. "For... what?"

Hiei growled audibly as he struggled with his words. Talking, after all, wasn't his strong point. "I'm sorry that I've taken you for granted for so long."

Kurama nodded slowly in understanding. Then, a flash of an naughty grin formed on his face before it melted into an expression of innocence and wonder. "Taken me for granted...?"

Hiei fidgeted a little as he avoided Kurama's beautiful gaze.

"You're teasing me, fox!" Hiei exclaimed, but it came out more like a whine, to his chagrin. "What do you want me to say? That I was worried when you were nearly rendered mindless by Munashii? That I had never been so scared in all my life at that very moment? That-"

"I love you too," Kurama declared before silencing the diminutive youkai altogether with a soft, fluttering kiss.

* * *

"Fox? Fox! What the hell happened to you? Kurama!"

It was Hiei's voice. The blurred image that suddenly came into focus was definitely him; he with the pointy, gravity-defying hair that looked like a large, black fireball amidst Kurama's blurry eyes. The youko also heard other voices; voices from his immediate past.

"Gay or not gay?"

"So your answer is still the same, Kurama. But you don't seem to like simple answers, since you're such a complicated guy to begin with."

"So I did this. Instead of living in my dream, I'm here to live my dream."

"Kurama-san can only be Kurama-san. Kurama-san can never, ever hurt the people he cares about the most. He never has any selfish reasons behind is motives... because Kurama-san is nice."

Kurama subsequently heard his own voice; his own words.

"What am I supposed to realize?"

"I could never do this. I could never hurt him in this meaningless, brutal, and impetuous way. I could never hurt someone I love so much like this."

And things suddenly made sense to the youko as he opened his eyes and kissed Hiei.

* * *

"Mmmmmph!" Hiei protested as he pushed the youko away.

Kurama looked up at the scandalized and outraged fire demon, a hurt and offended look in his eyes. "Are you really this cruel, Hiei?"

"Wait, fox! I didn't mean to...!" Hiei started to apologize before he caught himself in mid-sentence. His features darkened as he ominously inched towards the youko, waving his glinting-albeit rusted-sword. "What the HELL am I supposed to be apologetic about? What the hell did _I_ do?"

"You pushed me away!" Kurama cried, his eyes shimmering.

"You... you... you... you... kissed me!" Hiei sputtered in an outraged manner, absently wiping his mouth.

"Oh. That I did." Kurama blinked cutely; a fact that unnerved Hiei to no end. The youko afterwards laughed daintily as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "I'm sorry, Hiei. I thought that I was still dreaming; that this was one of my fantasies about you."

"..." the jaganshi sermonized, before altogether ending the silent statement with, "Good-bye, fox," as he made his leave. He could have decapitated the damn youko right then and there-he really could-but right now he was just too... traumatized to be angry.

Kurama mutely watched the fire demon leave before he plopped into his bed. And, with no further contention nor disputation in the way, he laughed. He laughed long and hard. He laughed like a lunatic, a raving madman. Even after he assured his mother that everything was fine, that he wasn't going crazy, he still laughed. He laughed through the pillows he stuffed his face on, just so his kaasan could get some sleep. He laughed from late evening to early morning, like he'd just listened to the funniest human joke he had ever heard.

It was the best damn laugh he ever had in years.

* * *

"Let's recap again: You _kissed_ Hiei for real and not just in a dream. And that makes you straight how...?" Kuwabara confusedly inquired.

"I hate to say this, but I agree with Kuwabara," Yusuke confessed worriedly. "You can tell us the truth. I can handle it. I did promise you that I'll deal if ever you confirmed you were queer... um, I mean of another persuasion... or something."

Kurama chuckled candidly. "Relax, you two. I was just teasing Hiei. Nothing more. Though I doubt he'll ever want to visit me by my windowsill anytime soon." The youko guffawed some more.

Yusuke and Kuwabara looked back and forth at each other and at Kurama before they both put their hands on the youko's forehead to check if he had a fever of some sort.

Kurama sweatdropped at the two teens before he altogether smiled enigmatically. "Maybe I am gay," he whispered secretly.

Kurama mischievously grinned at the dumbfounded teens. "I'm just full of gaiety."

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Midori's Inquiring Mind

Note that I put in the title _Shonen _not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. But I must note that, due to the nature of this chapter, there is now some undeniable and inevitable Shonen-Ai parts in the dream sequences. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja!  
Abdiel


	11. Chapter 10: Autumn

The repeated clapping of lightning and roaring of thunder assailed Kurama's responsive senses. The harsh wind numbed him with its cold fingers. He looked around: There wasn't a ray of sunlight or an assurance of safety in this place. It was a familiar milieu.

It was a place where only the strong survived, and the weak were merely food for the strong. It rivaled hell itself with its ominous presence. It was a ruthless and cruel environment where only the ruthless and cruel had a right to live.

It was a place he called home.

"I-I'm back in the Demon World?" Kurama supposed, not quite sure of what was happening. "What am I doing here? How did I...?" he trailed off just as his nostalgia was replaced with an urgency that demanded his notice.

'A dream. It's just another dream,' Kurama reckoned as his deliberations finally clicked with the situation. 'Munashii must have thought that he can lull me into my own oblivion by giving me a month long sabbatical.'

Indeed, it had been a month since Kurama had one of his queer dreams; the last one was even literally queer. Kurama chuckled at the thought despite of his morose surroundings. Hiei unsurprisingly hadn't bothered to visit him again since the fateful 'kissing' incident. The youko hoped that his little self-induced poke into his own manhood hadn't been taken too seriously by the overly grave jaganshi.

The youko looked around once more. He confirmed that he was on a cliff overlooking the vast, majestic and awe-inspiring landscape that was the Demon World. He looked over his shoulder, worried that, any moment now, an enraged and jealous Hiei would come out of the woodwork and cut him in half, his entrails spilling out as he fell into the grim chasm below. He shuddered at the horrifying but admittedly ridiculous thought.

'A month-meaning it has already been three months since we've heard from Munashii himself; from the man who was once known as Tetsuma Yoshitaka, the life-giver,' Kurama reflected as his mind went back to its original focus while still warily looking from left to right for any sign of danger. 'Has he now come to confront me again?'

Even if this was a Dream World, the Makai remained a dangerous place, and old habits died hard; especially centuries-old habits. Kurama cautiously backed up from the hazardous crag that could mean almost certain death with one simple push. He stared at the surrounding darkness for any movement, but he quickly realized that even though his sense of smell and hearing were more reminiscent of his true youko self, his eyesight remained distinctly and imperfectly human.

Kurama sighed. 'That's right. I almost lost myself there. I now live in a human host, with human weaknesses and limitations. This nostalgic setting almost made me forget that right now I'm...'

"Human."

It was said with such malice that Kurama reflexively winced. It was stated in such a way that it seemed like the speaker was addressing a lowly and disgusting insect.

He half-expected to see Munashii standing right behind him. At last, the soulless one had come out of hiding, ready to confront the prey that he sought after for so long.

But it wasn't Munashii.

The statement was said in Kurama's own voice.

No, not just in his voice. It wasn't in his human voice. It wasn't at all effeminate and gentle. Rather, it was harsh and severe. There was a deep, unmistakable coldness to it. So much unlike his human voice but it was still his voice.

It was his youko form's voice.

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Halfway through the Four Seasons arc comes the soft-spoken Midori Ohya.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Autumn**

* * *

Kurama was now staring into his own golden eyes, his own silvery hair, and his own cruel sneer. He was staring at his own inverse reflection. He was staring at himself. He was staring at his youko self.

"Human," the specter repeated, a menacing glint in his eyes that implied murderous intent, "disappear from my midst."

The threat in his voice was unmistakable as he drifted gracefully yet ominously towards Kurama's personal space, the two Kuramas finally meeting face to face.

The face off was brief. Youko Kurama stared at the empty space he lunged into in slight annoyance. The 'human' Kurama had stepped away from the deadly attack, thus falling unceremoniously into the darkened depths below.

But Kurama was no fool. His body might have been weak, but his mind remained as sharp as it was during his days as a ruthless thief in the Demon World. Youko Kurama realized this once he saw his red-haired counterpart swing up the crevice, sailing past him with the use of the ever-reliable Rose Whip.

"I'm not going to disappear from your midst," Kurama avowed resolutely as he landed safely on the cliff's base a good distance away from his youkai self. "I will not be dictated upon by a reflection of my own self."

Youko Kurama snorted derisively. "How can you be so sure that I'm just a reflection of yourself?"

"Because after what I have been through all these years as a Spirit Detective and after certain recent, eye-opening events, I have finally realized who I am. I know who I am and I know who I am not."

Youko Kurama's scowl seemed even more menacing after he heard his alter ego's sentiment. "I am no reflection of you, human." He immediately charged again.

Kurama swung his Rose Whip high and low in a zigzag formation, intending to somehow entangle this youko doppelganger by either binding his feet or hands.

Kurama's eyes widened in shock as he saw his double suddenly stop his rush, slowing his pace down to a walk while maintaining a steady eye on the snaking rose whip. Then, with a skill born of age-old experience, Youko Kurama grabbed the whip and sheared its thorns out with one hand while wrapping the smoothened vine-like weapon around the other.

"Pathetic," Youko Kurama derided as he carefully cupped all of the sharp thorns inside his palm. "Have you really become this weak after mingling with those pitiable humans?" The legendary youkai thief suddenly yanked the boy near him with the Rose Whip. "You're nothing like me."

Kurama nearly yelped out in surprise once he was pulled off the ground, flying through the air like a helpless autumn leaf that was blown away by a raging hurricane. 'Incredible! Did I possess such power as a youko? Or am I really so piteously weak as a human?'

'No! What am I thinking? I am not human-I am the youko-I am Youko Kurama, not this doppelganger! He's just another fantasy Kurama, the same as the one in my dream about Keiko and the other one in my dream about Hiei! I am the real Kurama!'

No further thoughts were aired inside Kurama's head as pin-sharp thorns were painfully smacked on his face as he approached Youko Kurama head on. The mindless pain tore through him like nothing he had ever felt. The pain was sharp and vivid, as if it didn't come from a dream.

'But it did come from a dream. This is just another dream trying to confuse and manipulate me,' Kurama thought desperately amidst the searing pain. "I will not be manipulated!"

Despite the burning anguish from the lesions that matted his face with blood as thick and red as his own mane, Kurama was still able to concentrate enough to wrap the remaining thorny parts of the Rose Whip around the 'true' youko's arm. "Don't talk as if I'm not who I think I am. I have been through too much to not know who I truly am!"

"You're beginning to sound like an echo, human."

Youko Kurama idly looked at his bound limb and sneered. "How typical. If I move any further to strike, my arm will be clopped off. You, on the other hand, will remain still because if you do sever my arm, you'll be open for a counterattack. It's the perfect standstill for someone as non-confrontational as you."

"Don't give me that. You'd probably attack the same way, if you were in my shoes," Kurama spat contemptuously, because he knew that his youko self would not take him seriously until he made himself into a threat as great as... himself.

"You really don't know a thing," the ruthless youko condescendingly sneered. "I would never attack in such a way that would compromise myself and give my opponent a chance to counterattack. That's ludicrous. A thief is ruthless, cunning, and manipulative. My attack earlier, had this not been a dream, should have killed you instantly."

'Wait a minute! This fantasy Kurama-this Youko Kurama-is aware of the fact that this is a dream?' Kurama exclaimed incredulously.

"To fight with your opponent's well-being in mind; to have your legendary ruthlessness decrease as time passed by; to let yourself become so weak to the point that you have become more of an annoyance than a threat: You're nothing like me."

Kurama stared at his youko self, dumbfounded. The sheer heartlessness of the youkai was readily apparent, but it wasn't the reason why the gentler redhead was left speechless. Kurama knew that somehow he should be incensed, angered by the statements, but he wasn't. He didn't feel any anger or irritation at all, even though his pride was at stake. The fact left him feeling... peculiar.

"You have forfeited the right to be called Youko Kurama."

"What gives you the right to say that?" Kurama demanded, but this time with no malice in his voice, only puzzlement. It was as if he really was curious of the answer.

"What gives you the right to claim something you've denied in the first place?" Youko Kurama rejoined, his eyes blurry and his features inscrutable.

"What do you mean by that?" Kurama cried in a more insistent tone, with a hint of... fear? Was that a hint of fear in his voice?

"Why did you not fight Shigure as your youko self? When you fought the demon in your human form, why did you say that you fought as your 'true' self? Shouldn't you answer those queries first before you question my judgment on your suitability to be called Youko Kurama?"

But Kurama didn't have any answers for those queries-because they were his own queries as well; questions that had nagged him since the end of the Makai tournament. He resolutely decided on something, but he himself didn't know what he decided upon, try as he might. Why didn't he change back into his youko form altogether? Why did he continue to linger in the Human World? Why did he pass up a perfect opportunity to continue his old life after he was forcedly separated from it?

"This isn't the first time you've dreamed of this," Youko Kurama stated. "Before you had your confrontation with Shigure, you've been dreaming this dream; you and me, as separate entities, facing off against each other in a fight to the death. This dream isn't as symbolic as you'd like to believe."

Youko Kurama then bit the bullet as he let the sharp, thorny whip dig deep into his arm. Kurama let out a silent scream as he felt his youko self's sharp claws tear his chest apart, making his already palpitating heart race amidst a geyser of blood.

The cruel youko stopped short from ripping Kurama's heart out altogether when he felt his arm get violently skinned. He bit his lip as he felt the burning torture, exposing canines that painfully punctured his lower lip while tissue and muscle were exposed from his profusely bleeding forearm.

"It's you who doesn't understand. You're just like Yomi," Kurama rasped as he struggled against his failing breath, his vision blurring several times. "I'll tell you now as I had told Yomi before: I fought as myself. This is what makes up my identity now. I am a youkai yet I choose to live as a human. This is the decision I stand by."

"And to claim yourself as a youkai while you live a human's life makes it all right? You fool!" Youko Kurama spat as he winced in unsaid agony. "This is the greatest tragedy for one such as a youko."

"I don't see the tragedy," Kurama remarked honestly. He afterwards noticed the malicious glint in his inverse reflection's eyes. He warily backed away, bracing himself for anything.

"Well then, I have this to say. If you still think that you're I and I am you, then you will see and understand the tragedy your decision has made of your life."

With that said, no more words were necessary. With the swiftness of claws and the skillfulness of hands amidst mutual pain and agony, each struck their final blow; two equal halves destroying the whole.

* * *

Kurama sputtered awake, disbelief etched upon his panicked features. After waking up from his latest dream, the redhead felt rather empty. He felt alone, but not because he longed for companionship. He was alone per se. He didn't feel lonely, it was just a fact that he addressed; he was alone.

Perhaps this was just his way of reacting to his latest whimsy. Or rather, he didn't know how to react to it. He didn't know what to feel about it. He just felt... nothing. For a change, he now knew how Munashii usually felt.

Kurama felt so empty that he didn't notice the red stain on his pristine white sheets. "Blood?" he noted, surprised by the calmness of his own voice.

He frowned in irritation; a curious reaction, considering the situation he was in. This lack of feeling in him was grating his nerves and testing his patience. Confusion and anger was better than the numbed feeling he had, so his sudden bout of annoyance was a welcome change.

His typical dithering thoughts were replaced with confusion once he finally traced the origin of the stain on his sheets. He gasped in shocked anguish as he gently extricated a miniature version of his rose whip wrapped around his bleeding wrists.

"Looks like Munashii is now playing for keeps," Kurama murmured to himself, caressing his sore, bleeding wrists.

What the undead bishonen wanted from Kurama by involving him in such dreams was beyond him. All he knew was that he had to survive this somehow. He was able to endure several grueling centuries as a notorious demon fox thief, after all. This was nothing compared to his hardships as one of the most influential creatures of the Demon World.

An obvious lie; he'd already noted to himself that his human life was beginning to gain equal footing with his past youko life in terms of impact, no matter how short or seemingly insignificant it may be.

Kurama blinked. He didn't know where this train of thought was leading him. He was surprised at himself. He was actually comparing his youko life to his human life. How silly. He subsequently wondered which really did have impact on him as a whole.

The youko furthered his contemplations; or was it the "half-youko"? Now that he thought about it, since he had lived his life recently as a human, did that now make him a half-demon? He simply didn't know.

Kurama furrowed his eyebrows in concern. 'Another influence of this new dream, perhaps?' he mused, mulling over the situation at hand. 'I couldn't even choose between my two supposed personalities. I'm supposed to be wholly youko, my human counterpart just a mere shell, and yet-'

He remembered the dream again; his true youko self, fighting his human counterpart. His point of view wasn't through the youko. It was through the human.

"Is the dream actually making me choose between my youko self and my human self?" Kurama whispered incredulously as he got up from his bed and searched his medicine cabinet for the first aid kit.

A stray, unbidden thought entered Kurama's mind. It was the statement his youko self had said before his dream ended.

'If you still think that you are I and I am you, then you will see and understand the tragedy your decision has made of your life.'

From there, Kurama responded, as if it his answer to the youko's challenge was in his subconscious all along.

"A star's pride will only allow a death fit for a star; to crash and burn into blazing glory. So it is the greatest humiliation for a star to die by simply fading away."

And from that unbidden declaration came an unbidden memory from his past: his human past.

* * *

"Shuichi, you should play with children your age. It's the normal thing to do," Shiori Minamino urged her young son desperately, worried by the way he was sitting on the park bench in all his lonesome earlier that afternoon.

Shuichi mutely stared back at her, his demeanor resolute, his eyes defiant. He continued to brood as he ate his meal in silence, politely thanking his mother for the repast, but still not responding to her request.

Shiori sighed forlornly. Though her child was polite towards her, and he wasn't unkempt, dirty, and naughty like other boys his age, she still wished that he'd start doing normal, boy-type things typical of kids his age.

'Sometimes I want him to be naughty. I want him to have fun; to soil his clothes once in a while and to play in the dirt once in a while. He should talk more. He should talk about 'boy' things like lizards, tops, and slingshots. He should be more curious of his surroundings. All the other kids keep away from him, and it worries me. I love him so much, but still...' she trailed off from her train of thought as she realized that the dishes... hers and her son's... were already put away, the tabletop wiped clean and the leftovers put in the refrigerator.

She was able to catch a silhouette of Shuichi as he tiredly bounded on the stairs. She sighed again, but it wasn't a tired sigh, as indicated by her wispy smile.

"Thank you for doing the dishes and putting away the leftover food, Shuichi!" Shiori called out.

"It wasn't a problem. I didn't mind," came Kurama's deadpanned reply.

Shiori let out a tinkling giggle. "Now what sort of mother can stay mad at such a good boy like that?" she chided herself, not at all minding if her child had heard or not.

* * *

'So did the "star's pride" idea originate from my human childhood?' The youko mutely changed his bed sheets, taking care to remember to also change his bandages later. The darkened, brownish stain on his dressed wounds illustrated the point.

But all these tasks were just menial labor for the kitsune; things to occupy his idle hands as his distracted mind went elsewhere, his earlier declaration still echoing in his head.

"A star's pride," he absently reiterated as he fluffed his pillows, his psyche searching for the exact incident in his past, in his supposed childhood, where the pledge originated, so that he could finally unlock its meaning.

* * *

The young Kurama sat on the windowsill as he gazed at the clear, jewel-filled night sky. He was grateful to the human woman for taking him into her care, a youko reborn like an infant pup, but her constant niggling was beginning to tax on his nerves. He needed to stay away from her for a while, impolite as it may seem.

'Impolite, eh?' The reborn youko chuckled at the word. That was an understatement, considering who he was just nearly a decade ago-literally a hairbreadth of a moment in a youko's long life. He never cared for such things as politeness in the Demon World. There was no such word or concept in the dark, foreboding, and faraway world.

Kurama shook his head. 'No, it isn't faraway. Just after five more years or so, after I have repaid my debt to this human woman, I will return to my real life, as Youko Kurama,' he reckoned, though he still didn't know how to revert to his original form... yet. Whatever Youko Kurama wanted, he would get. But he also languidly mused at how he was going to repay his gracious host once he left. It didn't really matter; he'd figure something out eventually.

He idly wondered if he was going to miss the young mother, just as he'd missed Kuronue after he died, or even the impetuous Yomi after he was taught a valuable lesson in humility. He dismissed those thoughts; the woman wasn't going to die or get killed, he merely wasn't going to see her anymore after five years or so. But he still questioned if he was going to miss her nonetheless.

Would he also miss the blue sky and the bright sun of the Human World? No, he didn't care much for it. What he did like about the Human World was its clear, midnight sky and its glittering jewels touching the darkened heavens. It symbolized his past life in a very special way. He was always fond of symbols.

The darkness was always a warm, safe blanket for a thief; a trusted companion, a confidant, and a protector. That was what the night represented for him-but it was the sparkling diamonds that seemed so far, so unattainable that it nearly drove him to madness, that really caught his eye.

He imagined plucking those gems right out of the sky, defying even Enma Daio himself just to get those precious treasures.

Would he miss the symbolism of the night sky even after going back to his former youko life? Kurama shook his head. Those were probably thoughts for another day.

"Shuichi?" asked a startled voice.

Kurama inwardly groaned as the female human entered his room. She was probably going to scold him for staying up so late, or tell him to get down from his perch on the windowsill because he might accidentally fall down from the window. He never did know how to react to her daily naggings, so he just coped the only way he could; the only way he knew.

He stared back at her with a grim, pokerfaced look.

"Shuichi..." his 'mother' started.

'Here it comes. _Come down from that windowsill right this minute, young man!_ and some such. It's degrading for a youko to hear such-'

Shiori smiled, saying, "So what's up?" which made the young Kurama blink.

* * *

So it went on like that-young mother and adopted 'prodigal son,' looking up in the night sky, admiring the glinting pinpoints of light.

Kurama knew that the woman was merely waiting for him to ask something. So typically, like the daring youko that he was, he took the risk. "Kaasan," he started, addressing the female in the way she wanted to be addressed.

"Hmmm?" Shiori mumbled simply, not even bothering to look away from the spectacle before her.

'Does she really think that I'm naive enough to not see through her pitiful act?' Kurama thought-in wonder, not with malice, despite the harsh words. He braced himself to continue.

"What are those?" he asked, curiosity and innocence apparent in his voice. 'Do I really sound so childish and inane?'

"They're called stars, Shuichi," Shiori answered, smiling and still not staring back at her 'son'. "They're bright stars that last forever."

"Nothing lasts forever," Kurama somberly rejoined as he looked back at the... stars, a hint of maturity in his voice. He felt uneasy as he became aware of the woman's intense and shocked stare.

'Perhaps I shouldn't have said that. It was rude and it didn't coincide with the 'little boy Shuichi' she had pictured in her mind. But how can I take it back?'

"You're a smart little tyke that's just eager to grow up, aren't you, Shuichi?" Shiori teased her son.

'Half-right,' Kurama mused, seeing his mother in a new light.

"But you're right, nothing lasts forever. Even stars. Those stars, they're so far away that it takes thousands of years for their light to reach Earth, and within those thousands of years, some of the stars we see today are probably dead by now."

"Dead?" Kurama repeated, morbidly fascinated.

Shiori nodded. "So that means all we see right now, in a..." she trailed off, hesitating, but she continued, "...a philosophical viewpoint, are just shadows of the past."

Kurama looked up broodingly at the sky. 'Thousands of years, and then they die out. So they're kind of like demon fox spirits, then,' he reflected. This was the best conversation he had with his mother so far. He idly wondered when exactly did he start referring to the woman as his mother, but he pushed the thought back. He still had an important question left to ask.

"Kaasan, how do stars die?" Kurama inquired.

"Scientifically speaking?" Shiori queried in kind.

Kurama shook his head. "Philosophically speaking," he stated, partially repeating what his mother had said earlier.

Shiori let out a laugh-a laugh so gentle it reminded the reincarnated youko of the tinkling of gilded bells.

"Okay. My father told me this when I was your age, so listen carefully. A star dies in two ways. It either crashes and burns into blazing glory or it simply fades away." She seemed to size up Kurama for a bit before she excitedly resumed, "Now, philosophically speaking, stars are a prideful lot. They'd rather die by crashing and burning rather than by fading away. So, in a sense, it's almost heartbreaking to see a star fade away."

Kurama seemed to take Shiori's avowal seriously as he solemnly nodded, carefully contemplating his mother's words in his methodical mind.

Shiori ruffled Kurama's hair familiarly, smiling. "It's wonderful that I've finally found a way to talk to you, son. You're practically a gifted genius."

Instead of beaming at the motherly praise, Kurama merely supposed aloud, "Aren't there persons who live out their lives the same way: by either going out in a blaze of glory or by slowly fading away?"

Shiori smiled as she kissed Kurama's forehead. "Those things only happen to stars, dear. Now off to bed you go. We can talk about that some other day."

* * *

"Shuichi, breakfast is ready! It's time to go to school!"

It was his mother's usual morning greeting. It was so customary that Kurama blearily inspected himself to see if his human body had already aged nineteen years instead of just a mere six years-meaning he checked himself if he was still dreaming. Even his memories had become a lot more vivid ever since his special little fantasies started. He almost couldn't tell if he was still dreaming or already awake.

"Coming, kaasan!" he cheerfully called out as he bounded off the stairs, already sporting his school uniform.

"Are you okay, son? I heard some noises in your room last night, and I was kind of worried-"

"I'm okay. Everything's okay," he assured as he hid his bandaged wrist under his uniform's sleeve. He hated lying to his mother like this, but he had no choice in the matter.

"That's good to hear, but you shouldn't stay up so late... Oh, yes! Do you still have some money left over from last week's allowance?"

"Of course, kaasan."

Shiori kissed Kurama on the forehead-a habitual yet tender gesture. "That's a good boy. You know, your little brother is finally starting school right here in this district, and money's been a little tight since the wedding..."

"Kaasan, it's all right. No need for that apologetic tone," Kurama reassured consolingly.

"You're sweet as always, Shuichi," Shiori said cheerfully as she nuzzled Kurama's head.

Of course he was. Kurama always felt the need to be extra-polite to his mother, especially since he lied to her face everyday. It was only fair.

How many times had he lied to his mother, anyway? He'd probably lose count; not that he bothered counting in the first place. He had lied from the start-from the numerous missions he attended for the Spirit World's sake to the little secret that started it all: the fact that he was a youko.

But was he really a youko right now? He wasn't living a youko's life, but a human's.

"So it is the greatest humiliation for a star to die by simply fading away," the statement in his subconscious echoed.

So was he a star that was fading away? Was he a prideful youko that was slowly vanishing into oblivion, turning into a mediocre human? Did he will himself to fade away, in hopes that one day all his lies to his mother would become truth? That someday, through his own choice, he would become...

'What's with these weird thoughts?' Kurama pondered as he woke up from his brief yet thought-provoking reverie.

"Ah. That Shuichi is quite a handful. I mean the other Shuichi," Shiori conversed, unaware of her son's transitory sabbatical from reality; or perhaps she was just feigning ignorance since she was already used to it. Kurama could never really tell.

"Oh my! Sometimes I wish that that father of his could've named him something else. His son and my son having the same name! How vexing," Shiori protested, but the joviality of her tone allayed her supposed displeasure.

"It's nice to see you so happy about Shuichi and his father living here, kaasan," Kurama honestly observed, dispelling his nasty thoughts about his own deception and deceit.

"Ah, the wonders of motherhood! Like I said, your little brother is quite the handful. He's so naughty, so rowdy, and so emotional." Shiori exhaled as she looked towards Kurama's direction. "I wish I could've been more prepared. If only you weren't the exact opposite of your younger brother."

Kurama rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He had seen this act done by some of his classmates in junior high school whenever they were confronted by either something embarrassing or by a moody female-or both. The gesture somewhat worked to a degree, so Kurama picked up the habit ever since. "I can't help the way I am, kaasan."

Shiori lightly laughed her 'tinkling bells' kind of titter. "That's right. I guess you can't. You can only be Minamino Shuichi," she said in a singsong voice as she made her way upstairs to carry on her newest hobby: needlework.

Kurama just sat there, unnoticed by his mother as he considered her words. 'I could only be Minamino Shuichi. Huh. It seems that I don't know who I want to be.' He stood up hesitantly, remembering that he still had classes today. 'What do I choose now: pride or humility? Glory or nothingness?'

He slowly trudged to the door, his steps heavy, his mind burdened with semi-coherent thoughts; thoughts intertwined with the perennial questions that also plagued all of humanity. 'Who am I? What is my purpose for being?'

* * *

"While I'm touched by your concern and grateful that you protected me from Chiho's usual abrasive comments, I don't think that gives you the excuse to not talk to-Hello? Midori-chan? Earth to Midori-chan!"

Midori Ohya blinked several times before Yumiko's insistent beckons registered in her brain. "Huh? What was it, Yumiko-san?"

Yumiko crossed her arms in mock disapproval, a sly smile creeping in the corners of her mouth. "And you call _me_ the girl who has her head in the clouds! Look at you, Midori-chan. Ever since summer ended, you've been blanking out constantly." A thoughtful look crossed the girl who sported lengthy sideburns. "Hey, Midori-chan; I didn't blank out like that every time I dreamt about Minamino-san, did I?"

"No, of course not!" Midori lied through her teeth. While she usually abhorred dishonestly, there were times when the truth was far more hurtful than lies. Besides, lying afforded her a way to avoid confrontations to boot.

Yumiko raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're pulling a Minamino, Midori-chan."

Midori blinked as she struggled to clear the haze in her mind. A Minamino... What was a Minamino again? 'Oh yes,' she thought as she finally remembered. 'Pulling a Minamino' was a popular campus term in Meiou High that originated from Shuichi Minamino himself. 'When one 'pulls a Minamino,' he or she usually acts in an extremely polite and diplomatic manner in order to avoid any sort of confrontation or conflict, going as far as to make oneself into what can be termed as a 'human doormat.' The term can be loosely connoted to 'lying through your teeth' and 'wearing your heart on your sleeve.'' Midori blinked again.

"I did not pull a Minamino!" the mousy girl exclaimed.

Yumiko looked at her younger-looking colleague with half-lidded eyes. "Yeah? Well, you pulled one just now, while you're denying it. Let's face it; you weren't built for lying."

Midori pouted as she adjusted her glasses. "What were you trying to tell me earlier?" she asked, desperately trying to change the ridiculously silly subject.

Yumiko paused for a bit before advising, "You have got to apologize to Chiho! You know how sensitive she gets. You said some pretty hurtful things that I know you didn't really mean. If you swallow your pride just this once and say sorry, I know that-"

"No," Midori asserted, cutting off Yumiko.

The shorter-haired girl blinked at her bespectacled friend in alarm, knowing that Midori never cut off people. "Why do you have to make things so complicated, Midori? If you're doing this for my stake, then please stop."

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, Yumiko-san, but I'm not doing this for you," Midori contended resolutely. "I'm just sick and tired of swallowing my pride for that condescending-"

"Midori!" Yumiko bleated in alarm, shocked at her friend's demeanor. "How could you say that? You were both the best of friends long before I even joined your group; and I don't mean Chiho's silly little Minamino fan club. If this isn't about me, then why are you acting like this?"

Midori merely shrugged at Yumiko's question as light glinted off of her coke-bottle glasses, making her face eerily expressionless. "That's just it, Yumiko-san. You weren't there during all those years I knew Chiho. You don't know the full extent of her pettiness. You have no idea just how shallow Sasae Chiho is."

"I'm not worried about Chiho, Midori. I'm worried about you," Yumiko disclosed, her apprehension as clear as her words. "You've... changed somehow."

The class bell suddenly rang, signaling the start of classes. Midori had already moved out of the way of the milling crowd, but Yumiko still stood steadfast, her eyes sporting the strange combination of defiance and pity.

"People don't change, Yumiko-san; some people just don't see that little something that was already there in the first place." With no further disputation, Midori left the confused and worried Yumiko alone in the hallway as she joined the growing throng of students.

* * *

"It's yet another day of juvenile infamy," Midori drawled to herself as she entered the bustling classroom, a look of pure, half-lidded boredom in their eyes. She discreetly avoided any contact with Yumiko as they passed each other while taking their respective seats.

"You should all quiet down. Isako-sensei is going to be here any moment now," Kaito Yu, resident class nerd, snootily admonished. Typically, his pleas for obedience and compliance were mostly ignored. Atypically, his tone seemed almost... strangely pleading.

Midori ignored her last thought as she took her seat. The Midori before-the one that was an overbearing martyr-would have given Kaito's unease a second consideration. She might even wonder in concern what could have made Kaito feel so uncomfortable of the usual early morning rowdiness before class.

That was before. 'This is now.' Midori nonchalantly took her seat, taking out a small notebook from her leather bag as she ignored the noise of the rest of the class.

"Who would have thought that someone so quiet and unassuming could turn out to be such a bitch?" Midori recognized the spiteful, mocking voice. It belonged to the unofficial leader of Chiho's little posse; her right-hand girl in the fashion club; the textbook example of a social climber.

Who would have thought that people actually gave such vile creatures a name? 'Masami.' Before she realized it, Midori was already giving the object of her contempt a discreet, sidelong glance hidden behind the glint of her thick glasses as she pretended to read the neatly written characters of her history notes.

There they were; Chiho's mindless, shallow lemmings. They stood out from the rest of her classmates with their unnaturally colored hair and overzealous accessorizing, but ironically enough, they looked more like 'victims' rather than 'members' of the fashion club, what with all the imaginary, unrealistic ideals of beauty they follow (with disastrous results).

Midori could almost feel herself scowl at the idea as she focused her casual glance at Chiho herself. The flashy girl looked mostly bored-nearly apathetic-as she looked at a leaflet of some sort. 'The ideal of perfection is still concerned with cosmetic appearances and her own reputation, heedlessly taking advantage of the vulnerability of the innocents like the Ice Queen that she is.'

Midori idly wondered how Chiho was able to convince her to abandon the Literature Club to join the dubious 'Legion of Minamino-sama.' 'It was all for friendship's sake,' the bespectacled girl reasoned, but there was no feeling of kinship between them at that moment.

"Look at her over there, sitting quietly while she studies her little notes. Awww, ain't that sweet? Isn't she just the sweetest little nerd?" one girl, about Yumiko's height, wearing heavy, dark makeup that was once the latest fashion but now was just a past trend worn in bad taste, heckled.

"Y'know what I think? I think she's just trying to hog some attention for herself, which is too bad since everybody knows that she'll always be the invisible girl; right, Chiho-san?" a seemingly complete clone of Chiho, right down to the wrist bangles and the oversized earrings, nastily suggested. Chiho seemed to deliberately ignore her doppelganger's presence.

"Well, I for one think that an insignificant, unpopular nerd who's eager to please but is still mostly ignored should learn first who she's dealing with before she starts a fight," Masami acerbically implied on behalf of her beloved leader, a toothy smile on her face.

Midori was more than fazed by the statement and by the disgusting little whispers that followed it. Because it was, more or less, the same statement Chiho spat to her face after she was slapped that fateful summer afternoon in the park.

It was a statement composed of hurtful little barbs that upset Midori to no end, all because of the fact that those meaningless collection of words stabbed deep into her pride the only way the truth could.

Midori shook her head as if to clear it. 'Silly thoughts; they're nothing but silly thoughts.' She furrowed her brow as she sightlessly looked at her open notebook. 'Disgusting little whispers. Can't these squealing lemmings stop?'

Midori paused for a bit as she lifted her head and gazed at her classmates. It came, unbidden; the uncomfortable reticence. She could feel their secretive yet undeniable collective gaze. She covered herself with her thin paperback notebook as if she was suddenly stripped naked.

The quiet adolescent was able to catch glimpses of some of her classmates staring back at her through mirthful eyes. She felt discomfort over those mischievous eyes that darting back and forth on her person.

The ice was thankfully broken by the appearance of Shuichi Minamino at the doorway. A subdued-looking Yumiko stepped aside the red-haired boy's path as he made his way to his desk. 'The boy of reflection is here.'

Midori looked at Minamino in rapt and mute attention as a way of ignoring the growing feeling of cold dread inside her. Suddenly, in as unexpected a manner as the appearance of the earlier uncomfortable silence, the class's typical group of mostly male pranksters surrounded Minamino and gave him several leaflets, snickering.

Strangely enough, those leaflets looked a lot like the one Chiho was perusing earlier.

Minamino blushed furiously as he looked at the pieces of paper. Midori concluded that some of her asshole classmates must have printed out some pornographic material on the leaflets to tease the straight-laced student.

Minamino afterwards uncharacteristically slammed his palm on his desk in anger, surprising the prankster group and the whole class in general. "What sort of sick joke is this?" he demanded ominously.

A copy of the controversial leaflet fluttered silently on the floor near Midori's feet. Overwhelmed with curiosity, the shy teenager ignored her nagging feelings of trepidation as she picked up the piece of paper, intent on viewing its enigmatic contents.

Tears fell on the sheet as Midori held it with trembling hands.

* * *

She saw laughter. Not actual, mocking laughter; she heard no such thing. But she saw it-felt it.

She saw it through their eyes, felt it through their demeanor.

She saw it through the way the prankster group was looking down on her as if she was just another silly virgin nerd girl they could pick on because she was neither pretty enough nor desirable enough to deserve their respect.

She felt it through the way Masami and her cohorts were acting. They didn't need to make any of their annoying little giggles to mock her. All they needed to do now was to flaunt their aura of smugness over their revenge.

But the worst thing wasn't the silent laughter of the trickster group and the sheep of the fashion club. After all, not all of her classmates were involved in the repugnant little practical joke.

Yet these very classmates had the worst reaction of all.

Yumiko seemed as shocked as she was, and so was Minamino. But she couldn't erase from her mind the look they mutually shared. It was a look that was reflected by the eyes of many of her classmates.

It was a collective look of utter pity.

This was simply the worst thing to happen to her. For her, it was worse than spiteful laughter, and far worse than being ridiculed behind her back. Those were actions usually motivated by blind jealousy or a demand for recompense due to a real or imagined hurt.

Pity could only be elicited by bearing witness to someone's nakedness, misery, and despair. The only thing a person must do in order to earn pity was to become miserable.

Nothing can possibly be worse than to be helplessly mortified, humiliated, and pitied.

She lifted her head up as she dared look at each and every one of her classmates. Some looked away as if they were guilty as sin, though paradoxically enough, they were the ones least likely to be involved. Still others, the ones who _were_ as guilty as sin, stared back at her steadfastly, even proudly. Her eyes then alighted on the girl who started it all; her traitorous friend.

The Ice Queen.

She wanted to see in the Ice Queen's eyes the same flighty arrogance she saw in the Ice Queen's pawns.

If she saw condescension in Chiho's eyes, then Midori could accept it. Then they would be even. She humiliated Chiho and now Chiho humiliated her. That was that. Petty revenge in Chiho's part was a much more acceptable reason for the doctored photos than the shallowness of people who shouldn't even be involved with their personal squabble in the first place.

But Chiho didn't look at Midori with any disdain at all. Instead, she was looking at her the same way the rest of her classmates did.

Piteously.

Midori's vision blurred as she made her way out of the classroom; away from her classmate's glances that made her feel as naked as the faked nude photographs of herself.

* * *

"The poor girl! Did you see the look on her face? She was completely humiliated!"

"It must have been Sasae's doing! I heard that she and Ohya had a fight. Sasae is probably still upset about some of the things Ohya told her at the annual get-together of the Legion just this summer."

"Nobody deserves to be humiliated like that! Midori-san has never hurt anybody in her life! What Chiho-san did was unforgivable! She should be ashamed of herself!"

"Just wait till Isako-sensei gets here! He loathes Chiho-san and her antics. He'll straighten her out but good!"

"Do you dare say such things about the principal's daughter? Principal Sasae would sooner forget about this incident than let his precious daughter's permanent record get marred, Isako-sensei or no Isako-sensei."

"Well, I say Masami and her cohorts from the fashion club are just as bad!"

"Those pranksters who showed Minamino-sama those printouts are the ones to blame! They're the ones who are always causing trouble."

"Hey, I have nothing to do with this! I ain't getting involved in no chick fight."

Yumiko gritted her teeth in frustration as she looked at her murmuring classmates in disgust. 'They keep on talking about how bad things are going for Midori-chan, yet they wouldn't even lift a finger to help her.'

The girl with lengthy sideburns shook her head. 'But I'm no better than them. Just three months ago, all I ever thought about was my crush with Shu-chan and shojo manga. I lived in my own little fantasy world, but I didn't even make any effort or attempt to make my fantasies come true.'

Yumiko was able to catch sight of Minamino as he confronted the sons of bitches that showed him those despicable fake pictures. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze lingered. 'I may have lost Shu-chan, but I have no regrets in doing what I did. I lived my dream. I lived my life.' She looked determinedly at Chiho and her evil posse.

'Since I have a new credo of sorts, then I might as well follow it, right?' she reflected as she trudged towards her former friend's direction. 'This isn't the time to dawdle and daydream. It's time for action.'

* * *

'Disappear. I wish everyone would just disappear,' Midori thought as she sat on the school rooftop in a fetal position, hugging her notebook over her bosom protectively.

She hated being pitied. She hated seeing pity in the eyes of other people.

She especially hated seeing the reflection of pity in her own reddened eyes as she looked at a mirror image of herself at a nearby puddle of water.

There she was, sitting there, sniveling and wallowing in self-pity; and she hated the fact.

Midori's raw eyes was stung even more upon seeing the pathetic image before her. She threw a few stray pebbles at the dirtied pool, distorting the mortifying vision.

'I wish... I was the one to disappear; vanish, like the invisible girl that I am.'

Midori felt an eerie sense of deja vu.

"Sometimes I want to disappear, sempai. I keep wondering if everything would be better if I didn't exist."

It was said by a particularly close friend's voice; the voice of childish innocence that belied a mature and fatalistic viewpoint; the voice of a special, gifted individual that was often flippantly referred to as 'Minamino's little admirer,' just because he was overly familiar with the red-haired boy.

It was the voice of Shigeru Amano.

Shigeru's statement-the one that now floated in Midori's psyche-was said in the very same place where the bespectacled girl was currently occupying: the rooftop of Meiou High School's Science and Technology building. It was a very special place shared by people with two halves of the same soul.

'The two halves of the same soul,' Midori pleasantly thought. She and the freshman had often played with the idea that they were soul mates; that they were either siblings or family in a previous life. They even jokingly considered that they might have been husband and wife.

The mousy girl hummed in nostalgia. Those subjects were their usual topics of discussion in their secret hideaway. They were just two friends sharing a common bond of anonymity and loneliness.

How Midori longed for her fifteen-year-old friend to suddenly pop out of nowhere and greet her in his usual affable cheerfulness and candid glee. How she longed to reveal the aching feeling of disgrace and indignity in her heart. She wanted so badly to hold onto Shigeru, her symbolic flotsam to keep her from drowning in the sea of misery, because she had no one else but him.

She couldn't bear to go back to Mr. Isako's class-or rather, she couldn't bring herself to go back to a room full of degrading, distressed eyes staring back at her piteously. It would be too mortifying for her.

Yumiko... Minamino... worst of all, even Chiho... had the very same look of pity in their eyes. She had no friends left; none that could still look at her with honest respect and open admiration.

No one except Shigeru; he was, to Midori, her only friend left.

Midori subsequently chided herself for her selfishness and melodrama. She should also think about Shigeru's own needs. After all, codependency was what their relationship was all about.

"Perhaps we can talk more about those beautiful poems he made after his grandfather passed away," the bashful young woman mused before she felt a sudden, faint movement from behind her.

Could it be that her delightful young friend was hiding on the rooftop all along, not acknowledging her presence until the very last minute in respect of her moment of agitation and depression? How sweet.

"Shigeru-kun? Is that you?" Midori beckoned as she surveyed her surroundings inquisitively. She then called him by the pet name she chose for him; once a cruel childhood insult, now a teasing address between friends.

"Shinko-chan?"

"Wrong."

The voice that said that sounded... different. It was cold, frightening, distant; everything that Shigeru's voice was not. As the timorous young lass looked up, golden eyes that contained neither compassion nor even a hint of mortifying pity stared back at her; cruel, unmerciful eyes slightly hidden by sharp, silvery bangs that glinted in the midday sun.

Midori screamed until her lungs burned.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: The Silver Fox and a star's death.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja!  
Abdiel


	12. Chapter 11: Setsuna

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Life is nothing but a moment in time.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Setsuna**

* * *

"Who made these photos?" Kurama demanded as he waved the leaflets at his prankster classmates.

"I don't know," said one of them, shrugging casually. He smoothed his cropped hair, smirking. "For all I know, it could be made by anyone. Maybe even by you."

"Don't give me that nonsense," Kurama spat, leaving his words hanging in the air of an unsaid threat. The entire group of delinquents hooted at Kurama's hostile demeanor.

"Or you'll do what, Minamino? Glare us to death?" a boy sporting unnaturally green hair and a nose ring scoffed.

"Maybe he'll turn into a fox demon, like what those Paranormal Club freakazoids keep saying," another boy-the one with the scrawny build and forgettable face-heckled.

"You don't get it, do you?" the cropped-haired boy cooed. "Nobody here is going to fess up on anybody. You won't find any stool pigeons here, Minamino. Just give it up; the invisible girl ain't worth it."

"Oh, I get it now!" Kurama chimed in, brightening up-although his smile did have an exaggerated quality to it. "You can't tell on each other, or else everybody will be incriminated; is that correct?"

"Yeah, whatever. What you said," the nearly skin-headed boy heedlessly snorted. "So remember Minamino: nothing happened. The last couple of minutes didn't exist."

"Oh really?" Kurama smilingly queried. "How about the next couple of minutes of _this_?" He suddenly held the prankster group leader by the collar.

* * *

"Chiho!" Yumiko called out angrily as she made her way towards the flamboyant schoolgirl. "How could you do such a thing to Midori-chan? You're supposed to be best friends! Have you no heart? How dare you let her get humiliated like that! What kind of friend are you?"

She stopped at mid-stride as Masami and the rest of Chiho's fashion brigade blocked her path. She simply pushed them aside. "All this because of your little argument last summer? How dare you betray Midori-chan's trust for such a flimsy reason! What you did was just the worst! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"So unfeminine! Just what exactly do you want to prove, bowl head?" Masami questioned, grimacing. "What the heck are you talking about, anyway?"

"Maybe we should ask 'Shu-chan about it,'" the girl with the heavy makeup maliciously teased, eliciting a couple of giggles and titters from the group.

"Chiho," Yumiko addressed straightforwardly, totally ignoring all other... distractions, "we need to talk. Now."

"Don't believe everything you hear, Yumi-chan," Chiho offhandedly divulged. "I had nothing to do with this."

Yumiko looked at Chiho dubiously. "That's it? That's your defense? Is that the only thing you can say for yourself? Well, that sucks! Can't you come up with a better excuse?"

Chiho returned Yumiko's doubtful stare with her own half-lidded look. "I don't have to. I don't care if you believe me or not. What I say is true."

Yumiko was taken aback by Chiho's pledge before her eyes glinted in mute understanding. "So it was all this bitch's fault?" she stated, pointing her finger as Masami.

Masami stared disdainfully at Yumiko, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "You should watch your filthy mouth. Don't you know that it's rude to point?" She smirked. "Besides, you can't prove anything."

Yumiko resisted the urge to slap the Fashion Club's vice-president as she turned her attention back to the Fashion Club President. "I hate them for what they've done to Midori-chan, but you're no saint either. You knew all about your groupies' little plan, yet you didn't even give a damn. That makes you as bad as they are."

Chiho didn't even bother to react to Yumiko's accusation, all the while maintaining her mostly pokerfaced expression. But what did catch the gaudy girl's attention was the ever-growing buzz from her fellow classmates.

Yumiko quickly turned to where Chiho was looking, only to witness the last thing she expected to see.

Shuichi Minamino in a fight.

* * *

The cropped-haired boy wiped the trickle of blood on his lips as he made another enraged swing at Minamino. He again missed, getting a face-full of the redhead's palm for all his trouble.

'Dammit! I didn't know pretty boy Minamino was into martial arts and shit,' he thought, annoyed by how the fight was going. His whole body ached as the battle seemed to stretch on for eternity.

'Miyagi. Itou. Nueno. They're all down. Looks like this is just between me and Minamino.' The self-appointed leader of the prankster group cracked his knuckles. 'I won't let a fruitcake like him beat me!'

He charged at Minamino, shouting with primal rage. It was an all or nothing attack.

To his surprise, his punch and kick combo actually worked on Minamino for a change. The bully grinned. 'He ain't so tough after all.'

Minamino heedlessly grabbed the oppressive young man's arm and twisted it towards the latter's back. The delinquent struggled in vain.

"Minamino Shuichi-kun! What the hell are you doing? Let go of Mizuhara this instant!"

'Aaawww! It looks like I've tarnished poor little Minamino Shuichi-kun's permanent record. Too bad, since bug-eyed Isako has been giving Mister Perfect Student the heat since the first semester,' Mizuhara thought snidely. 'It looks like I've won in the end.'

* * *

"Ssshh. Don't bother screaming. No one can hear you."

Midori warily espied the silver-haired stranger before her, inspecting every aspect of him carefully. Her eyes traveled slowly over his slim, slender build draped in loose, pristine-white clothing, stopping briefly at his curved mouth and mischievous slanted eyes that were filled with mirthless intelligence just a while ago. 'He certainly is handsome. But what are those strange things hanging on top of his head?'

Midori screamed again as realization struck her.

The mysterious, golden-eyed man sighed. "You're wasting your breath."

"B-But those are fox ears!" Midori sputtered as she pointed wildly at the fantastic half-beast. "Then you must be some sort of fox creature; a kitsune, perhaps?"

"I am a youko," the supposed fox creature declared, smiling impishly. "I am Youko Kurama."

* * *

"Isako-sensei, I can explain," Kurama started.

"It's pretty simple, Isako-sensei," Mizuhara interjected as he extricated himself from Kurama's grip. "You know the school rules about fighting inside class. It's highly inadvisable for a student of such a prestigious school as Meiou High to engage in such behavior."

Mizuhara gestured towards the direction of his fallen but quickly recovering comrades. "Now, I don't know exactly what pushed Minamino to the brink of insanity, but my comrades and I, as you can plainly see, became the innocent victims of his misdirected rage. I can't speak for Minamino, but the fact remains that-"

"You're full of shit, Mizuhara! That's not what happened!"

"Don't you dare imply that Minamino-sama's the one at fault here, you asshole!"

"So you're saying that Minamino kicked your sorry ass?"

"Don't be so mean to Minamino-san, you big bully!"

"Quiet down, all of you!" Isako reprimanded as he motioned Mizuhara to continue, his face serious and grim.

The cropped-haired rabble-rouser coughed once before he smugly smirked at 'Minamino'. "I know you're going to do the right thing, Isako-sensei. Why, Meiou High's reputation as a prestigious and _disciplined_ school will be in jeopardy once people find out about this.

Kurama wanted to say something, but thought the better of it once he saw Isako's insistent glare.

'Bye-bye, Minamino-kun,' Mizuhara jeered gleefully. 'Everybody knows that bug-eyed Isako is out for your blood. He didn't even bother to hear your side of the story. That's what you get for messing with me and my posse's fun.'

The History teacher inhaled deeply before loudly and derogatively admonishing, "What the hell kind of a cockamamie story is that, Mizuhara-kun?"

"Eh?" the cropped-haired troublemaker elucidated, completely baffled by the turn of events. "But I swear that I'm telling you the truth, Isako-sensei! You saw what Minamino did to us, right? He attacked us for no good reason and even knocked most of us down!" he pathetically whined.

"Minamino knocked you down?" Isako chortled. "Please, Mizuhara-kun. Do you really take me for a fool? Minamino-kun here can't even hurt a fly."

"It's true and I have the bruises to prove it!" came Mizuhara's sudden outburst. "Everybody saw what happened!"

"What the heck is he talking about?"

"What I saw was Mizuhara decking Minamino, not the other way around."

"It's the truth! Minamino sucker-punched me on the jaw and it still hurts!" claimed Itou, a rather portly young man that also belonged to Mizuhara's group. Unfortunately, instead of eliciting compassion from his fellow students, Itou's insistent declaration was met with sudden boisterous laughter. Even the ever-grim Isako was uncharacteristically chuckling.

"But it really does!" the overweight boy cried.

"He must have had a glass jaw!"

"You guys are really lame."

"If Minamino-sama really did fight, you guys will be lying on hospital beds!"

"Is this another one of your half-baked lies, Mizuhara-kun?" Isako reproved, automatically shifting from his momentary lapse of mirth to that of his more typical demeanor. "Normally, I'd rather have this settled in the classroom right now without the involvement of the administration. But you're all beginning to try my patience."

"But...!" Mizuhara protested weakly as he checked himself all over. Sure enough, there was no proof that he had been in a recent brawl; no contusions, no bruises, not even a reddened mark. He looked at his compatriots. It was the same for them as well. He still felt as if he was run over a truck, though. "I-I don't understand."

"Understand this. You're lucky if you get off with a warning," Isako admonished, scowling. "I really, _really_ hate liars. But you're still lucky nonetheless. Why, if the principal ever heard about this-"

"Isako-sensei," Kurama suddenly interrupted, bowing politely. "With all due respect, I believe that Mizuhara-kun and the rest of his friends shouldn't just get off with a warning. In fact, I highly suggest that Principal Sasae gets involved this time."

"Oh?" Isako inquired condescendingly. "Why is that, Minamino-kun? Did these bullies hurt more than your pride?"

"No," Kurama said simply as he unfolded several of the leaflets he had reluctantly acquired. "It's because no one should get away with a sick practical joke like this."

* * *

"Youko... Kurama?" Midori slowly and tentatively repeated as she gazed upon the strange apparition before her. "Is this some sort of strange dream?" She resisted the urge to jump back in surprise as she caught sight of the majestic creature's silvery foxtails. 'H-He's beautiful.'

"How flattering of you to say that; I appreciate your compliment," Youko Kurama playfully thanked, making the bespectacled young schoolgirl jump back in surprise for real. "I'm sorry, it was rude of me to read your mind like that."

"It's all right," Midori hesitantly assured the youko. Her heart skipped a beat as Youko Kurama smiled at her, his slanted golden eyes shining.

Midori soon became self-conscious as the fox demon continued to stare at her face for a couple of more minutes. "What is it?" she asked.

The many-tailed kitsune LAUGHED daintily. Before the girl could protest, he had already taken off her thick eyeglasses, peering through them curiously. "Such strange, transparent objects. You humans have too much attachment for material things. It's as if you actually believe that you can somehow improve yourselves through them."

"Please give those back," Midori softly pleaded, pouting.

Youko Kurama tilted his head at the teenaged girl in askance. "But this object that's supposed to improve your vision doesn't really do its task well. Why do you still wear them?"

Midori quickly snatched the nonprescription glasses away from the youko's hand, blushing furiously from embarrassment and annoyance. But why was she feeling embarrassed and annoyed? Was it because this odd being had exposed her little psychological mask so easily and inadvertently? Or was it because she didn't want herself to be left exposed in fear of being humiliated?

The diffident young lass shyly looked up at the youko, hiding the lower half of her face behind her History notebook. His eyes glistened the same way it did before; without a trace of malice, accusation or... pity.

She put the notebook down on the concrete floor of the rooftop altogether as she stood up to face the mysterious entity. "Is this a dream? Are you a manifestation of my own madness that I've conjured up because of my wish to fade away?" she inquired pedantically.

She paid no heed to the strange white fog that began to envelop her as she continued her insistent questions, saying thoughts she'd normally leave unsaid and unspoken in the real world.

"Who are you really, Silver Fox? What do you want from an invisible girl whose only wish is to fade away?"

"Do not merely wish to fade away, Ohya Midori," the Silver Fox started, his expression a strange enigma of amusement. "A star never wishes to fade away."

What was the Silver Fox saying? "A... star?" the invisible girl asked.

The Silver Fox nodded smilingly. "To fade away is a star's greatest humiliation."

* * *

"So you used mind-controlling pollen on Mizuhara-kun and the rest of his cohorts?" Kaito queried as he walked next to Kurama in the mostly crowded corridors. "Clever. You were able to protect your reputation and your permanent record while still exacting revenge upon those delinquents. So very like the legendary Youko Kurama."

"Please, Kaito. In school, it's 'Minamino,' remember?" Kurama clarified as he looked over his shoulder worriedly. "I don't want the Paranormal Club to get any ideas."

"Yes, yes, Minamino-kun," Kaito offhandedly assured. "So what happened to Mizuhara and company? Did they get expelled?"

"They got punished, that's for sure. But they still kept on insisting that they merely rode on the bandwagon as the leaflets were distributed in the classroom," Kurama informed in a subdued manner. "I'm beginning to believe them."

"Humph. So that's why you need me?"

"That's right. So did you uncover anything?" Kurama asked sheepishly, adding a pleading, "Please, Kaito-kun?"

Kaito snorted disdainfully. "None of that '-kun' business for me, Minamino." He sighed. "In response to your question; no, it's a dead end. It wasn't one of us 'nerds.' We'd never do that to Ohya Midori. We feel a sort of kinship towards her, treating her as one of our own... and we'd never betray one of our own."

Kurama furrowed his eyebrows. "If it's not the pranksters or the nerds, then who can it be?"

"I know the answer to that."

Both Kurama and Kaito turned to see the source of the determined female voice.

Yumiko smiled cheerfully at the two boys, though the heavy flush on her cheeks was very evident. "Perhaps there's a way for me to help you two; right, Minamino-kun? Kaito-kun?"

* * *

"Masami was the one behind all this?" Kaito rhetorically asked in his usual monotonous nonchalance.

"Are you sure, Yumiko-san?" Kurama queried earnestly, the look of concern in his evergreen eyes obvious. "This isn't exactly the sort of accusation you can take lightly."

"I'm positive," Yumiko guaranteed. "Masami and her group of fashion rejects hated Midori with a vengeance."

"Why is that?" Kurama queried.

"Because Chiho gave more attention to Midori-chan than any of the Fashion Club members. The only reason they joined the Fashion Club in the first place was to be identified with Chiho. 'Coolness through association,' if you will; something that Midori-chan received from Chiho without any ulterior motives."

"So it's all for jealousy's sake," Kaito supposed. "But why now? Why not before?"

Yumiko let out a consigned sigh. "Just this summer, Chiho and Midori-chan had a major fight..."

"...Which gave them the perfect opportunity and excuse to get even with poor Midori-san," Kurama concluded, tight-lipped. "They mustn't get away with this."

"I know. But it's hard to tell on them since they're associated with Sasae Chiho, Miss Popularity of Meiou High and..."

"...Daughter of the Principal of Meiou High," Kaito finished for her.

"It's not fair!" Yumiko spat, slamming her balled-up fist on the table. "If only Chiho can just forget about her pride and forgive Midori-chan! The way she just took the high road and dismissively ignored the situation is enough to make my blood boil! Best friends shouldn't fight like that. I swear, once I get my hands on-"

Kurama suddenly held Yumiko's hand and squeezed it encouragingly, saying, "You must be really concerned for your friend's welfare. You're a really good friend yourself."

Yumiko blushed furiously, tongue-tied. "I... um... well... Minamino-san... you...!"

Kaito suddenly smacked his open palm in an exaggerated gesture of remembrance. "I almost forgot! I need to study for a big Physics exam. Sorry, but it seems that I've got to go. See you two later."

"Hey, wait!" the girl with the lengthy sideburns protested before realizing that she was still holding Kurama's hand. She quickly relinquished her grip, feeling uncomfortable with the awkward state of affairs. "Sorry."

"I didn't mind."

The pensive teenage girl's heart stopped for a fraction of a second. "R-Really?"

The "couple" fell silent for quite a while.

"Minamino-kun..."

"Yumiko-san..."

The pair stopped at mid-explanation as they both realized that they just chorused each other's names. They subsequently shared an embarrassed laugh over it. Yumiko was the first one to speak.

"I really appreciate what you're doing," she confessed tentatively, hastily adding, "for Midori-chan."

"I like Midori-san. I consider her as a friend. I hate what those people did to her," Kurama replied.

Yumiko fidgeted a bit. "I see." She took a deep breath. "But what about...?"

"I also like Yumiko-san."

Yumiko felt like she had just ascended to heaven.

"I wish that we can also be friends."

Yumiko quickly descended back to earth.

The dream-filled girl whose hopes were now hopelessly shattered again smiled wanly, visibly deflated; though she also, strangely enough, felt relieved. "I'd... like that, Minamino... kun."

The two new friends sat there in comfortable silence for a few more minutes. They afterwards heard the buzz of an excited crowd as students began gathering over one side of the cafeteria.

"What's going on?" Yumiko wondered before resolutely saying, "I'm going to find out."

"Yumiko-san, I don't think there's a need for us to-" Kurama soon realized that he was talking to thin air. 'I certainly wish that it's not another fight. My fight with Mizuhara and the others didn't really happen; I hope for the same circumstances to occur here.'

"Minamino-kun! Minamino-kun!" Yumiko worriedly called out as she suddenly emerged from the crowd. "You have to come over here, quick! It's Midori-chan!"

* * *

"The Silver Fox was right," Midori whispered to herself as she made her way over the Fashion Club's designated table, tightly clutching her History notebook against her chest.

"Midori-chan?" Masami inquired sweetly, a feral grin plastered on her attractive visage. "So you're finally back from the roof where you and Minamino-san's little admirer does... Kami-knows-what!" Murmurs of 'pedophile' and 'cradle-robber' followed the Fashion Club vice-president's declaration, as well as barely repressed feminine giggles. "Bug-eyed Isako sort of got pissed off when you didn't attend class just because of your little... boy toy." There was more spiteful laughter.

"I heard that there's a centerfold coming out...!" the heavily made-up girl blurted out 'accidentally,' covering her mouth after her embarrassing 'slip of the tongue.'

"I shouldn't fade away; not for the sake of these pawns of the Ice Queen," Midori faintly muttered as she came closer and closer to the group of girls.

"Who does she think she is, sashaying over our table like that?" the Chiho doppelganger asked irritably.

"Maybe she's going to try to bore us to death by reading some of buggy Isako's History notes," a wafer-thin girl laughingly suggested.

"Wait, girls. Let's hear what sweet little Midori-chan has to say," Masami impishly suggested. "What's on your mind?"

"A star should never fade away... should never be humiliated," Midori mouthed, the words nearly indistinguishable.

"A star? So you're saying you're like a... superstar?"

"She's gone crazy."

"What a weirdo."

Midori ignored the other girls' jeers as she extended her arm, her palm aimed at Masami's face. The self-appointed leader of the fashion brigade flinched, thinking that the usually timid girl was going to slap her. But when she realized that wasn't the case, she laughed out loud.

"Are you really that much of a geek that you've become this out of touch with reality? What are you going to do now, magical girl? Zap me with your enchanted powers to make me vanish?"

"That's right." Midori smiled. "Vanish."

Masami's clothes suddenly burst into shreds.

* * *

Masami covered herself desperately as she burst into tears and sobs. Wildly, she accused, "You really are a freak!" before wailing some more.

Yumiko looked at the bizarre occurrence with complete and open shock. "M-Midori-chan...?"

'How did Midori-san do that?' Kurama thought, dumbfounded. 'More importantly... why?'

Midori looked at the hapless, naked girl before her with a look of satisfaction on her face. She let out a peal of cruel laughter. "You're making quite a show of yourself, Masami-san. So how does it feel to be naked, humiliated, and mortified?"

Kurama quickly went over Masami's side, offering his overcoat for her to cover herself with while Yumiko cautiously approached Midori.

"Midori-chan, what happened to you?" she asked pensively. "What have you become?"

Instead of acknowledging her friend's query, Midori merely looked at Yumiko intently. The bespectacled schoolgirl gazed all around her; at each and every one of the students that surrounded her, peering straight into their eyes. She liked what she saw.

She saw fear in their eyes. She moaned in ecstasy, basking in their terror.

"I have become... a bright and powerful star."

Masami sobbed and blubbered on Kurama's chest as the red-haired boy tried his best to comfort her. 'Things are getting out of hand. How can it possibly get worse?'

"Minamino-kun, what's going on!"

Kurama cursed himself for thinking what he just thought as he turned to face the origin of the stern and cold voice with a feeling of inescapable dread.

"Principal Sasae."

* * *

"Minamino-kun, we have to do something! If we don't, Midori-san will be in trouble!" Yumiko pleaded to Kurama.

"I think things will be all right. We already told to Principal Sasae Midori-san's side of the story, and he seemed understanding enough. He merely arranged for a parent-teacher conference between Midori-san's parents and Isako-sensei." Kurama shrugged. "I don't see the problem."

"You don't understand. I'm not worried about Principal Sasae or Isako-sensei! I'm more worried about how Mister and Missus Ohya are going to react," Yumiko reasoned.

"I'm sure they won't believe all those rumors about Midori-san using magic or voodoo on Masami-san," Kurama reckoned.

"That's not it!" Yumiko berated. "The Ohyas are super-strict. Once they find out what Midori-chan did, they'll ship her out of Meiou for sure!"

"But that's too much! This is Midori-san's first offense, and she's even an honor student!" Kurama protested. "It would be unfair for them to do that. It wasn't even completely her fault."

"I'm afraid it's all true, Minamino-kun. That's why I'm asking you to stay after school to help me convince Sasae-sensei to revoke his decision for a parent-teacher conference. That meeting must never happen," Yumiko beseeched determinedly.

* * *

"That's absolutely out of the question. Now excuse me, I was just leaving," Principal Sasae said curtly as he closed his briefcase and stood up from his seat.

Yumiko gritted her teeth in frustration. 'After searching for you everywhere in the entire school campus, you have the audacity to do this to us?' To the administration head, she parroted everything Kurama had observed earlier, pleading, "But sir, this is Ohya-san's first offense, and she's even an honor student. The whole incident wasn't even entirely her fault."

"I know all about that juvenile prank with the faked nude photos. As a matter of fact, I've already given Mizuhara-kun and company _and_ Masami-kun and company all the necessary disciplinary sanctions," the forty-five year old said tiredly as he rubbed his temples in exhaustion. "However, to compare that little practical joke to public assault inside school grounds is completely preposterous!"

Sitting on a nearby couch, Midori Ohya didn't even flinch at the Principal's words, all the while staring wistfully at the office's glass pane windows, completely lost in her own little fantasy land.

"B-But Sasae-sensei...!"

"Not buts. Meiou High School prides itself with high quality education and strict disciplinary standards. We didn't get our reputation as a respectable and prestigious school by letting delinquents run amok. Discipline must be maintained! Why, Ohya-kun actually got off lightly this time around."

"Midori-chan isn't a delinquent-" Yumiko retorted before she was quickly restrained by a certain Shuichi Minamino.

Principal Sasae harrumphed. "It's this sort of dereliction of discipline that's making me lose faith in the youth of today. It's the likes of you and my daughter that's...!"

"I'm sorry. We should have known better," Kurama cajoled apologetically. "You're right, Sasae-sensei. You're not in the compromising position; we are." The once proud youko bowed low in respect and reverence. "We're asking... pleading... for your kind reconsideration."

"Humph. You're always so good with pleading... Aren't you, Minamino-kun?" the middle-aged man scoffed. "Always pleading for reconsiderations on your constant absences, for example; and you're so polite about it too. Well, I say you already owe me too much to ask for another favor!"

"I think you're looking at this the wrong way, daddy."

Both Yumiko and Minamino looked at the office doorway in candid astonishment while Principal Sasae just stood from his spot in open-mouthed disbelief. Even the mostly unresponsive Midori turned to briefly glance at the source of the facetious voice.

"Oh, hello Yumi-chan! Minamino-sama, you're also here? You're just the nicest person, aren't you?" Chiho Sasae cheerfully greeted as she beamed at the stunned pair. She wagged her finger. "You guys are mean. You shouldn't have started without me."

* * *

"You're not going to browbeat me this time! You're exactly like your mother! Nag, nag, nag until she gets what she wants!"

"And you're a good-for-nothing father with a one-track mind! It's no wonder mommy had to set you straight every time!"

I never thought fifteen minutes could seem so long," Kurama discreetly remarked to Yumiko.

"Fifteen minutes? It seems like they've been going at it for decades," Yumiko hissed in kind. She anxiously glanced at the apathetic Midori, sighing worriedly.

"Fine, then," Chiho suddenly said in a firm and resolute enough manner to catch the attention of everyone in the office. "Listen here, daddy. I didn't come here to bail out Midori. I came here to," she licked her lips as she braved herself to continue, "own up to my responsibilities."

Principal Sasae looked warily at his daughter, as if not completely convinced with what he just heard. He rubbed his beard contemplatively. "Go on."

Chiho shrugged. "It's... all my fault. Masami used a fashion makeover program in one of the computers in the Fashion Club room... with my consent. I... should have known better. I was the one that drove Midori to do what she did and I take complete responsibility for it," she admitted composedly.

"Sooo... you're saying that you're wrong? Sasae Chiho, my pig-headed daughter, is admitting that she's the one responsible for this mess?"

Chiho rolled her eyes. "Yes, daddy."

"I never thought I'd see the day," Principal Sasae disclosed as he shook his head in wonder. "Okay. I revoke my decision. Ohya-kun is merely going to get a warning this time."

"Midori-chan is off the hook?" Yumiko whooped for joy. "Yes!"

Kurama simply smiled in relief, but he subsequently frowned at what he saw in the corner of his eye.

Yumiko hugged Chiho tightly, kissing her repeatedly on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Now, now, Yumi-chan! Don't go lesbian on me now," Chiho cautioned, clearly ill at ease.

"I knew you wouldn't leave Midori-chan in trouble like that! You really are her best friend!" Yumiko cheered.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Chiho smilingly commented.

"However," Principal Sasae appended gleefully; a bit too gleefully for Chiho's tastes, "since you're so eager to own up to your sins, we might as well get started with punishing them. First of all, you're grounded; meaning no radio, no television, no anything..."

"But daddy!"

"Oh, and I have to hit you where it hurts the most! So no phone calls and _ definitely_ no boys."

"You're going overboard, daddy!"

"Don't worry," Yumiko grinningly ascertained, "at least you still got your two best friends. Right, Midori-chan?"

There was no response.

"She already left," Kurama disclosed as he grimly gazed at the open door.

* * *

"What happened?"

"The White Emperor was nothing but a mere pawn of the Ice Queen. I'm starting to tire of their shallow little affairs."

"But of course."

"I don't want you to fade away, Silver Fox. If there's anything I can do to stop it, then I will."

"So you'll do anything?"

"Yes. Anything. Anything for you, my Silver Fox."

* * *

"I'm so tired, okaasan," Kurama stated as he sat down on the floor, totally exhausted.

Shiori Minamino inquired, "Long day at school?"

Kurama nodded mutely. "I'm sorry, kaasan. I'm too tired to eat. I think I'm going to skip dinner."

"Okay," Shiori conceded as she began putting away the dishes, humming a silly childhood ditty as she went about her chores. "Oh, I almost forgot. I prepared the bathtub for you in case you wanted to have a relaxing hot bath."

"Really? Thank you. You spoil me at times, kaasan," Kurama expressed his gratitude in relief as he willed himself to stand up. He paused as he heard his mother's giggles. "What is it?"

Kurama's adoptive human mother waved him off. "Oh, it's nothing really. It's just that we sound more like a salesman and his wife than mother and son."

Kurama sweatdropped. "That's... really fascinating, kaasan."

Shiori tittered further. "You always get embarrassed so easily. Go upstairs and take your bath already. I'll take care of things down here."

* * *

"I still feel tired," Kurama noted as he put on his pajamas, plopping down on his bed unceremoniously. "Not even a hot bath in the furo is enough."

He exhaled. "Who would have thought that a day in school could be just as draining as a mission from the Spirit World?"

The red-haired boy lay on his back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. For a change, his mind _wasn't_ in shambles because of some dream concerning his love life, sexuality, or whatnot. In fact, the dreaded repercussions of his latest dream didn't at all manifest in any of his adventures the entire day. He rubbed his now slightly scarred wrist, which was sore and bleeding just this morning. "Though I don't want to jinx it or anything, I daresay that today has been a better day for me in the eerie dream department."

True, the karmic forces insisted that he suffer in another way, but he sort of preferred a strenuous day in school than yet another session of psychoanalytical second-guessing. Besides, everything worked out for the better. Midori was able to win her friends and dignity back-that was the important thing.

'Though the strange thing that Midori-san did to Masami-san's clothes; I'm a bit curious about that,' Kurama admitted to himself. 'Perhaps she's just like Kuwabara-kun. She must have some sort of latent psychic potential that was released in that one moment of intense emotional stress and anxiety.'

Kurama yawned involuntarily; a curious human reflex that fascinated him to no end, since fox demons never had any need for sleep. 'Though the way Midori-san acted in the Principal's Office was very strange indeed.'

"Well, like I always used to say, 'Those thoughts are for another day.'" With no one to dispute or contend the factuality of his quote, Kurama surrendered to slumber.

Curiously, he had a dreamless sleep this time.

* * *

"What am I doing here?" Kurama exclaimed in alarm as he surveyed his environment. "What am I doing outside the house?" 'Is this... one of those strange dreams again?' he pondered.

Somehow he knew that it wasn't a dream this time.

For one thing, since the moment he woke up, he felt his senses become as sharp broken shards of glass. Alertness was never one of the things present in a hazy mind's dream, no matter how vivid it may seem.

His nocturnal sight lifted the veil of darkness, leaving everything under it exposed for his ready perusal.

His responsive skin felt the pinpricks of the coldness of the night not as numbing pain but as a means to feel the presence of everything and anything around him. From the heat of their excited breath to the humidity of their sweat, he felt it; all of it.

His sensitive hearing was able to pick up and distinguish every little sound around him; the most dominant sound of all was the agitated pounding of a human heart.

His smell-his keen sense of smell-was able to pick up the musky and metallic scent of...

Blood... and also fear.

He quickly checked his claws. Sure enough, that was where the smell of rusty blood emanated.

'Wait... Claws?'

He looked at a nearby glass window. A reflection of a silver-haired demon stared back at him.

Kurama searched for his center of calm, found it and used it to relax himself back into his human form.

Satisfied to see an emerald-eyed reflection that sported a thick, red-haired mane, Kurama made his way towards the doorway of the Minamino residence. He still had to find out where the scent of fear came from.

He desperately hoped that it was his own fear he smelled.

He gulped in trepidation as he gripped the cold handle of the metal doorknob. It clicked open. It wasn't locked.

The scent of fear became even stronger.

It also mingled with the rusty musk of blood.

Despite his earlier relaxation exercise, he could now hear his own human heart pound with renewed vigor. He opened the door cautiously, bracing himself for anything.

His blood turned cold at the sight.

Lying there, disheveled and wounded, was his mother.

"Kaasan! Kaasan!" Kurama cried out in panic as he frantically checked for a pulse. Thankfully, she was still alive, but the youko's earlier horror hadn't dissipated. "Are you all right?"

Shiori's eyes fluttered open upon hearing her son's voice. She quickly hugged her beloved Shuichi, frightened tears falling down on her flushed cheeks. "Oh, my son! Thank God he didn't hurt you!"

"Who did this?" Kurama asked darkly, ignoring the feeling of dread in his palpitating heart.

"It was a cruel, heartless monster!" Shiori declared passionately. "He was a silver-haired demon of some sort! I was so scared that he'd get you!" She wept on Kurama's shoulder, not noticing her son's present disbelief.

'No... Oh God, no.'

"Shuichi? What's wrong? Are you okay? Did the monster get you?"

Kurama backed away slowly from his mother, shaking his head in denial.

"Shuichi! What's wrong?" Shiori repeated, concern etched on her face. "Did that monster do something to you? Tell me, Shuichi!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Kurama repentantly apologized. "I'm now a danger to you." He ran far, far away, ignoring the painful maternal echoes that haunted his ears, his mind, and his heart.

* * *

'How touching. You always did have a flair for melodrama, human,' a mocking voice in Kurama's head said. 'I'd applaud you, if I could.'

'Who are you?' Kurama demanded, though he already knew the answer.

'Please. Spare me your doubtfulness. It irritates me,' the mental voice tiredly and impatiently snapped. 'Don't ask a question you already know the answer to.'

'Youko Kurama. Or, at least, the Youko Kurama in my dreams,' Kurama concluded.

'Youko Kurama will suffice,' Kurama's alter ego said curtly. 'It's a tad hard to wreak vengeance upon the person who has hurt your loved one once you find out that _that_ very same person is you; don't you think so?'

'Don't mock me,' Kurama said to himself.

'Why not? Have you forgotten that mocking an opponent is one of our... or rather _my_ greatest weapons? It's all about understanding your opponent's behavior until you can completely predict his every move; psychological warfare at its best. It's basically making your enemy dance to the tune you're playing.'

'I don't like it,' Kurama insisted.

Youko Kurama mentally snorted. 'Of course you don't. It seems that you've forgotten how to be me. Or, to put it in a more dramatic way that you'll probably be more receptive to... you have forgotten how to be Youko Kurama.'

'Why are you doing this?' Kurama demanded.

'Of course you'd ask that. You're utterly predictable; but I digress. Let me put it in terms you can gleefully overanalyze for hours on end: You are the fading star. I am the burning star. My burning pride will overwhelm your faded sense of self. I will have my wish of a death fit for a star.'

Before Kurama could control himself, his body suddenly shifted form: a form with eyes that were cold, calculating slits of intelligence, and hair that glinted a metallic sheen under the lunacy of the moonlight.

"Ah. Much better," Youko Kurama drawled as he regained most of his other persona's motor functions. He subsequently began wafting through streetlights, trees, and buildings, seemingly flying over the multicolored splendor of the city after dark. "I suppose you're now wondering where I'm taking you."

Kurama did the mental equivalent of a silent glare.

Youko Kurama chuckled. "Touchy, touchy; but it's just as well." He licked his smooth lips in apparent exhilaration and delight. "You'll be surprised to know that Ohya Midori hasn't returned to the Ohya residence as of yet and is still in Meiou High School."

Kurama felt the cold dread from before manifest itself inside his psyche once again.

"Feeling anxious, aren't we? Well then, here's more. I was the one that woke up the human girl's psychic potential. Although her choice to rip apart her adversary's clothes as a show of her own self-importance was entirely her choice." The youko chuckled. "My, my. The human 'heart'-or rather, human emotions are oh-so-easy to control and manipulate."

'What sort of sick game are you playing?' Kurama telepathically shouted.

"This is no game. You're merely dancing to the tune I'm playing, Minamino Shuichi."

* * *

"Silver Fox!" Midori excitedly greeted as she got off her precarious perch on one of the railings of the Science and Technology building. "You came back, like you promised!"

Youko Kurama wordlessly grabbed Midori by the waist and kissed her passionately, much to Kurama's bewilderment.

"I have kept my promise," the fox demon softly cooed, "will you keep yours?"

Midori looked at the youko with clear, earnest eyes that shone through her thick spectacles. "My heart is ready."

A heavy fog suddenly enveloped them both as Youko Kurama extracted a special gray seed from his silvery hair.

'That's the-' Kurama started, before adding in panic, 'No! Don't use that seed, Youko Kurama!'

'It is now the beginning of the end,' the Silver Fox thought as he dropped the seed inside Midori's mouth. 'I will now have my star's death.'

* * *

Yusuke Urameshi rubbed his eyes sleepily as he heard an insistent tapping on the glass pane of his room's shut window. He grumbled incoherently, cussing like a sailor and then some as he checked out the ruckus.

"Some people are trying to sleep here. HEY, MOM! Is that you?" Yusuke groggily demanded as he began to lift open his window. "How many times have I told you that the spare keys are under the doormat, you lousy drunkard-" He soundly blinked.

Pink kimono. Blue hair. Really big oar/paddle/wooden object. It could only be one person-unless Yusuke's mother got really _wasted_ in a nearby festival where people dye your hair blue for free and give you boat paddles as souvenirs.

"Botaaaahn?" the sleek-haired youth yawningly said. "What the hell are you doing here?" His demeanor immediately changed as his eyes snapped wide open in alertness. "Did you find out something about Munashii?"

"Um, not exactly, Yusuke..." Botan trailed off, fidgeting slightly in trepidation. "Lord Koenma has called for you. You have a new mission."

"Not at three in the morning I'm not!" Yusuke shouted incredulously. "Tell that pacifier-sucking brat to call me later! I'm a growing boy. I need my sleep!"

Yusuke would have shut the window in anger had he not seen the pensive look on the ferry-girl's face. "Hey, Botan. What's wrong?"

Botan bit her lip as her eyes shimmered. "Yusuke, about the mission..."

* * *

Kurama stared aghast at the deplorable scene before him. He addressed his alter ego in a soft yet disgusted voice. "How could you do this?"

The two personalities' shared face quickly changed its expression from open-mouthed shock to sadistic delight. "You have excelled well in pitiful human academics with your supposed keen intellect, but is your old youko common sense just as sharp or has it faded away like your dignity as a demon?"

'What do you mean?' Kurama addressed mentally, seeing that his other self had again regained control of his bodily functions.

"Figure it out by predicting what happens next in these series of events; I mess with your mind, I mess with the girl's mind, I mess with your mother, I mess with your mind some more, I mess with the girl... What's next, Minamino?"

'You mess with me,' Kurama answered.

"Close, but you're not quite getting the big picture," Youko Kurama derided condescendingly. "If that's all I wanted from the start, then I wouldn't have gone through the trouble of executing steps two to five."

'I thought you hated needless contemplation,' Kurama rejoined.

"This isn't needless contemplation, Minamino," Youko Kurama corrected. "This is my favorite step; the 'messing with your head' step. I may have grown addicted to it, seeing how you second-guess yourself twice as many times as you breathe."

'I think you wouldn't have gone through the other 'steps' unless you actually wanted to attract attention,' Kurama supposed, getting straight to the point.

"Bingo," Youko Kurama gleefully mocked, applauding. "Now you're thinking like a youko. That's exactly what I intended from the beginning. Now, whose attention could I possibly want by kidnapping a normal, albeit psychic, human girl?"

'The... Spirit World's?' Kurama ponderously suggested.

"Ah. You're thinking like a human again. I'm so ashamed," Youko Kurama berated, wagging a finger disdainfully. "You should learn to jump to the proper conclusions instead of going through each and every possibility until you've strayed far beyond the original point."

The silver-haired demon fox crossed his arms. "You do know the original point... Don't you, Minamino?"

If Kurama had control over his body right now, he would have gritted his teeth in annoyance and frustration. 'A star's death?'

"Not just any star's death," Youko Kurama stated in his distinctive deathly calm and coolness. "A death _fit_ for a star; to crash and burn in full glory."

A large explosion suddenly rocked the entirety of the Meiou Science and Technology building as the only door leading to the rooftop literally flew open. A figure emerged from the smoking debris.

"Kurama, we need to talk; man to man."

Youko Kurama laughed heartily. "Then I thought, 'What better way to die than in the hands of a Class-S demon warrior?'"

'Yusuke...' Kurama thought in despair.

* * *

"Kurama?"

Yusuke stared at the... stranger before him. 'I don't like the way Kurama's eyes are glinting. Those eyes of his look more like Karasu's than his own. Even in his youko form, his eyes still never looked like that.'

"You shouldn't focus your one-track mind on such a tedious topic as glinting eyes," Youko Kurama mischievously admonished, startling the raven-haired young man. "Yes, I read your mind. Surprised? Don't be. I have long had this ability. Minamino was just too 'polite' to actually use it on you."

"Minamino...?" Yusuke dubiously repeated before he altogether shouted, "Munashii, you monster! First you possessed Kuwabara, now Kurama? You really are a gutless son of a bitch!"

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" the demon fox jeered. "I'm not possessed by the undead one, but he did help me get to this point. Actually, this is the first time I've felt like myself in years."

'Munashii helped him get to this point?' Kurama reflected in wonder.

"Well, if you're not Munashii, then who are you?" Yusuke pointedly asked. "You're definitely not Kurama. The Kurama I know would never stoop so low as to use innocent bystanders as bait to start a fight," the young man stated, remembering everything Botan had told him about the mission. "He's above that bullshit."

Youko Kurama chuckled candidly and merrily. "Are you referring to the 'Kurama' who constantly second-guesses his actions to the point of becoming an overbearing martyr of sorts? Then you must be thinking of Minamino Shuichi instead. Although you're right about one thing: I'm nothing like him."

Seeing the half-lidded expression of tedium and languor on the half-demon's face, the youko sighed, saying, "To put it terms that even you could understand," he gleefully chuckled, "I'm the Kurama that's willing to piss you off just to get the sort of fight I want."

"Ain't gonna happen," Yusuke adamantly stated. "I won't risk killing the real Kurama, even though you're starting to become a real prick." He cracked his knuckles. "I'm willing to compromise, though. How does 'beating you within an inch of your life' sound?"

The kitsune snorted derisively. "Nothing short of a full effort on your part will satisfy me. What I want is a fight to the death; nothing less."

"Now don't you start going all 'Sensui' on me!" Yusuke retorted. "It's not up to me whether you live or die. Nobody dictates to Urameshi Yusuke what to or not to do."

The golden-eyed youko shook his head in a display of consternation. "You're always like this: so reactive, so impetuous... so emotional. You always need someone to push you in the right direction, whether it's your other human companion, the fire demon, the old woman, or even your ancestor, Raizen." He sighed in dismay. "Very well; it's time for your proverbial push, mazoku."

The fog that surrounded the two combatants the entire time soon began to dissipate, making their surroundings clear for the first time.

Yusuke fell on his knees, dumbfounded. "How... How could you do this? Botan never told me anything about... this."

Before the two Spirit Detectives was a blissfully grinning Midori Ohya, the Tree of Thought Manipulation at her side, feeding greedily on her essence.

* * *

"You've seen the Janen Ju before, haven't you, Urameshi Yusuke?" Youko Kurama inquired smugly. "It feeds on people's bodily nutrients without them knowing it by means of thought and dream manipulation; hence its name. I've already used this particular plant on Toguro Ani during that little scuffle with Sensui, remember?"

"You bastard. How could you? She's just a girl!" Yusuke stared back at his opponent with a look of pure hatred. "How could you be so cruel?"

"Cruel? I did this girl a favor," the former Demon World thief reasoned, gesturing with a flourish. "Instead of living a life filled with misery, pain, and loneliness, she can now slowly and happily die in a world of make-believe." He then shrugged casually. "Don't you see the smile on her face? This isn't cruelty; this is mercy."

"Mercy?" Yusuke reiterated, grimacing as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth. "So you're doing her a favor by means of mercy killing? You goddamn BASTARD!"

"I will do anything to get a death fit for a star," Youko Kurama avowed enigmatically.

"Screw that; I really will kill you!" was Yusuke's seething threat.

In the blink of an eye, the teenage delinquent was already upon the personality-split youko.

'He's fast! This can only be the power of a Class-S demon,' the demon fox thought ecstatically, barely having enough time to react to Yusuke's barrage of fists. 'No. Not yet. This is not enough. His is only the power of a half-demon; he is not yet deserving of my attention. This won't do at all.'

Youko Kurama easily breezed through each and every one of Yusuke's punches the way autumn leaves floated gently on the cruel winter gale. "I can almost taste your anger, half-demon... and the burning force you gain by feeding on that anger. Still, it's not enough, I'm afraid."

There was a kick to the groin here, a muscle-tearing slash to the bicep there, and then a clawed stab to the gut in between the two attacks. Youko Kurama exploited all of Yusuke's openings. The reckless youth was caught completely off-guard, unable to defend himself from any of the demon fox's counterattacks.

Yusuke unceremoniously fell, becoming a boneless heap on the concrete floor. He cursed silently as he realized his dire predicament. 'I... I couldn't even touch him. Dammit!'

"Yusuke! Don't give up!"

Both Yusuke and Youko Kurama were caught flatfooted by the declaration, because the one who said it was Youko Kurama himself.

Or rather, it was said by Kurama himself.

"Yusuke!" Kurama desperately shouted as he briefly won out against his dual identity's mental hold on their shared body. "Remember that I... we witnessed all of your fights and know all of your techniques... and vice-versa! You can't be wishy-washy about this. Don't hold back on my account."

Yusuke lifted his head and stared back at his now 'conscious' friend, smiling.

Kurama's pleading expression was quickly replaced by an annoyed scowl from his alter ego.

The teenaged half-demon subsequently laughed out loud.

"Have you finally gone mad?" Youko Kurama mocked, though his face was still wearing the infuriated frown.

"Nah. You're just really funny," Yusuke said, wiping off the tears from his eyes. "You may think you have everything figured out and stuff, but you couldn't even stop my good buddy Kurama from making that outburst."

"Is that so?" the demon fox deadpanned, pokerfaced.

"Yep." The Spirit Detective leader pointed dramatically at the youko. "I won't fall for your trap; not while my buddy is still in there. Kurama will regain control of that body of his soon, just you wait and see."

'Yusuke,' Kurama thought smilingly.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: The Silver Fox and the Dark Phoenix.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	13. Chapter 12: Arashi

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Within the eye of the storm lies calm amidst chaos.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Arashi**

* * *

"Hmmm. It seems that hope really is wasted on the hopeless," Youko Kurama contemptuously ridiculed. "It's fascinating how you hold on to your beliefs like that, staying in complete denial of reality."

"So what?" Yusuke gruffly retorted. "I won't give up just because you tell me to. As a matter of fact, I simply won't give up, period." He went into the basic Rei-Kou-Hadou-Ken ready stance Genkai taught him. "I'll never give up."

'Looks like he got you there, Youko Kurama,' Kurama amusedly quipped.

"Reasoning with you is ultimately an exercise in futility," Youko Kurama concluded to Yusuke as he manifested his favored weapon, the Rose Whip. "So I ask you: How long can you remain in denial? Until the girl dies? Or until I kill you? Do you really think that Minamino can save her at this point? Once the Janen Ju is firmly attached to a body, it can never be extracted without killing its host. Don't you understand? Her life is already forfeit."

Kurama metaphorically flinched at the glare of Yusuke's unrelenting reiki. 'Oh no.'

'Looks like this time I've pushed the right buttons on your impulsive friend, Minamino,' the former youkai thief derided.

* * *

"The Ice Queen; her pawns; the White Emperor; the girl of dreams; the mass of lemmings; the boy of reflection; it's as if they came from another age, another time... another world."

"Bury them in the inconsequence of the forgotten."

"That's right." Midori smiled carelessly. "You're the only one I need, my Silver Fox."

They kissed.

* * *

Midori gasped in ecstasy as she softly kissed the humanoid head of the Janen Ju.

Yusuke looked at the girl with a mixture of bewilderment, pity, and revulsion. "W-What's with her?"

"She's dreaming about me," Youko Kurama disclosed. "Do you know why?"

Taking the Reikai Tantei's wince as a 'yes,' the youko continued, "It's because she has no other dreams. I became her only dream." He inhaled deeply. "Ah, yes; the smell of rage. You really do hate me now, don't you, Urameshi Yusuke? You hate the fact that I've used this girl's desire for acceptance as a means to a petty end."

"Petty... end?" Yusuke repeated through grit teeth.

"Why, yes. You heard right; a petty end," the sadistic demon fox corroborated. "It was all done for a petty, trivial, and negligible reason: to anger you. It was my only motivation for doing it."

Yusuke shook his head vehemently in denial, fuming in rage. "That's messed up! You mean to say that you used this girl just to piss me off?" The concrete under the hanyou's feet began buckling under the enormity of his growing aura of reiki. "That's not a fucking reason!"

"I don't see the problem." Youko Kurama shrugged nonchalantly. "After all, it seems to have worked."

As if to confirm the fact, a veritable storm composed of hundreds of volatile bullets of ki suddenly rained down upon the manipulative demon fox.

'That's more like it.'

* * *

Youko Kurama ferociously whirled his Rose Whip around him, creating a transparent green dome that served as his barrier against his fiery nemesis's nigh-overwhelming attacks. 'Humph. This is just reiki; granted, incredible, powerful reiki, but reiki nonetheless. I want more. I want youki; I want to feel the incredible youki of the progeny of a Demon Warlord!'

"Shot gun... Shot gun... SHOT GUN!" Yusuke passionately roared as every pump of his fist produced a new choleric wave of piercing spiritual energy. He bombarded his enemy everywhere, but not one of his concentrated shots grazed, much less hit, the youko. 'Damn. It's not working. It's like I'm fighting Yomi and his spiritual barrier all over again. I can't get through his damn Rose Whip shield!'

'He's foolish as always. He's going to squander all his energy on ineffective attacks, just like he did in his fights with Chuu, Sensui, and Munashii,' the calculating silver-haired fox evaluated as the shower of reiki harmlessly dissipated around him.

He was afterwards completely taken by surprise by a fist that suddenly poked through his spiraling barbed shield. 'What is the fool trying to do? Have his arm sliced into bits? He really is a-'

The youko's eyes widened. "By Inari...!"

Soon, the vine-like weapon wrapped itself around the entirety of Yusuke's arm, much like thread to a spool. Then, with one simple flex of his bicep, the teenage Spirit Detective ripped apart the sharp and pointed Rose Whip, though it nearly tore his limb in the process.

'Unbelievable. The fool sacrificed his arm to get through my defense! But he's acting as if nothing happened. How reckless.'

Yusuke turned towards the wide-open demon fox, his eyes burning with livid, uncontrolled fury. "Well, are you happy now? You got your wish. You've royally pissed me off," he seethed. "What now?"

Hearing no reply, Raizen's demonic descendant merely stated, "Time's up. You lose," as he smashed a bloodied, ki-imbued fist on the youko's astonished face.

* * *

"That creature-the Dark Phoenix-is dangerous. Why is he hurting you? You shouldn't let him do that do you, Silver Fox!"

"It's all for the sake of my glorious star's death. Let things be." "No! I promised that I will do anything for you, but I can never allow that to happen to you! You're the only dream I have, Silver Fox; I will not lose you!"

* * *

The silver-haired demon fox recoiled several feet away from the strength of his opponent's punch. He spitted out a loosened, bloodied fang from his mouth as he wiped the trickle of blood from his chin. His vision blurred several times as he tried to focus on Yusuke's image. He subsequently heard the young man's muscles tense.

Youko Kurama narrowed his eyes, struggling against his hazy eyesight. One thing was clear to him; the boy was going to strike again.

The blurs the youko saw were replaced by a flash of lightning that sent currents of mind-numbing pain all over his body.

'So I'm going to be beaten by a mere human,' the once proud and mighty Demon World thief of ill-repute thought in the middle of his anguish and suffering. 'This is not the star's death that I wanted.'

There was another flash of unforgiving pain. The demon fox's body buckled under the enormous pressure of his foe's prodigious assault. 'Perhaps I will not get my star's death after all. What a shame.'

Youko Kurama suddenly heard the determined shout of a familiar feminine voice.

"Don't you dare hurt my Silver Fox! I will not allow it!"

Then, as quickly as it started, the pain ended.

Youko Kurama's eyes focused back to crystal-clear awareness. He smiled. He liked what he saw.

Yusuke's fist was just inches away from the demon fox's smug face as it shook and trembled. In fact, the sleek-haired adolescent's whole body seemed to have stopped moving altogether; frozen, as if it was somehow paralyzed.

The golden-eyed demon chuckled. "Is there something the matter, Urameshi Yusuke?"

'I... I can't move my arm! How did...?' The half-demon's eyes darted towards the bespectacled girl's direction. 'Could it be...?'

Midori simply glared back at Yusuke with glowing, crimson eyes.

"Were you the one who made her do this?" the impulsive young man spat, his chocolate eyes narrowing ominously at the wickedly smirking kitsune.

"Hardly. I didn't even expect her to do this at all," Youko Kurama earnestly admitted. "The girl had innate psychic powers from the very beginning. She only recently manifested a portion of them. Apparently, even with the Janen Ju's mental manipulations, she can still use her powers to great effect. Lucky me."

Yusuke had enough of that. He let out his reiki once again in an attempt to counteract Midori's imperceptible telekinetic influence on his petrified body.

Midori screamed in pain. The Janen Ju's subtle parasitic leeching, coupled with the Spirit Detective's compelling resistance to her mental exertions, had finally taken their toll on her body.

The impassive fox spirit harrumphed. "How reckless. If you insist on heedlessly forcing yourself out of the girl's telekinetic hold, she will die." He smirked again; an incessant mannerism that was beginning to get in the raven-haired young man's nerves.

There was a glint of sadistic glee in the demon fox's golden eyes. "She's doing everything that she can to protect her one dream. She's willing to sacrifice herself for her Silver Fox. I must say that I'm deeply touched."

Seeing that he was currently indisposed at the moment, Yusuke contented himself to spit at Youko Kurama's self-satisfied face.

"You'll pay for that."

The legendary youko thief proceeded to rip the hapless Spirit Detective apart with his bare hands and sharp claws.

* * *

Kurama watched grimly as his alter ego brutally butchered his friend's immobile body. 'This is who I really am? A cold-blooded, heartless murderer that's willing to harm a helpless opponent? Or am I, as my youko self keeps on insisting, the gentle boy Minamino?'

Two images flashed before the disembodied half-youko's eyes: the smiling visage of his mother, and the very same woman sprawled on the floor, bloodied and terrified.

'My youko self is right. I do second-guess myself too much. I'm not even sure of who I am or what I really want.'

Kurama willed himself to look at the macabre scene once again. 'It's this constant second-guessing that has enabled my youko...' he trailed off before correcting, 'no, Youko Kurama to take over my body.' He felt grim determination brim inside of himself. 'There's only one way for me to defeat my other persona's dominance. I have to finally understand who I really am.'

* * *

"I guess that's enough." Youko Kurama breathed a sigh of discontent. "I honestly believed that I could have my star's death in the hands of a Class-S human turned demon. I guess I was wrong."

Yusuke glared straightforwardly at the kitsune, glancing occasionally at his deep wounds as if they were mere scratches. "You're full of shit. If you really did want to have a fight to the death, then you wouldn't be using that girl as bait and shield for your sorry ass."

"There are things left to fate, after all," Youko Kurama thoughtfully surmised to himself, totally ignoring his immobilized nemesis as he picked a small, black seed from his hair. "Though there are times when you have to prod events to your favor; fate only takes you so far."

The fox demon proceeded to stab the paralyzed young man on the soft spot of flesh just between the gut and the chest, planting his demonic seed inside the boy's heart.

"Ever since your fight with Sensui, your human heart has stopped beating. Even though the nuclei of your cells keep your now half-demon self alive, I see that non-beating heart as an unnecessary waste, much like the human appendix."

The adolescent troublemaker's eyes widened in shock. He felt that there was something... wrong about himself. He couldn't explain it. 'What the hell...?'

"Since it's such a waste, I thought, 'Why not give the boy back his heart?'"

Heartbeats. What Yusuke felt were continuous heartbeats in his chest.

His once long-dead heart had finally come back to new life.

"So I did; I used a reviving seed to resurrect your previously lifeless heart."

Yusuke subsequently felt a stabbing pain in his chest.

Youko Kurama chuckled gaily. "But here's the punch line; since your heart is now like a mostly useless appendix, its recent revivification is causing havoc to your mostly demonic anatomy. It will beat faster and faster until it bursts. Once it bursts, it will poison your bloodstream until you die of infection. Call it a heart attack and appendicitis combined, if you will."

Yusuke reflexively clutched his chest in pain despite Midori's paralysis spell, his heart rate palpitating to dangerous levels.

* * *

'Youko... Kurama,' Kurama addressed his other self tentatively. 'I have a question to ask.'

'Hmmm? A question? You hardly have time for that. Your friend's formerly dead heart is now beating hazardously. You should set your priorities straight,' Kurama's demonic self berated.

'Don't mock me,' Kurama mentally hissed the fast-becoming habitual statement. 'You know that at this point, I cannot help Yusuke. You're the one in control of this body, so my chances of helping are nil. I'll simply have to trust in him.'

'I just wanted to hear it from you,' Youko Kurama cheerfully explained. 'What's on your mind?'

'What you said about Munashii helping you get to this point; what did you mean by that?' the half-youko asked in all seriousness.

'These past nineteen years of living as a human has dulled your logic and common sense, Minamino.' The kitsune sighed. 'Through Munashii's influence in your dreams, I've finally discovered who and what you truly are.'

'Munashii's the one responsible for all of those strange dreams I've been having? How can you be so sure?'

The youko snorted contemptuously. 'That's your problem; you're always second-guessing! Of course he was responsible. When he failed to take our essence of being and self-awareness, he instead used his powers to make us somehow clairvoyant of other people's dreams.'

'How can that be? The best clairvoyant ability we have is mental telepathy! How did he do it? Why did he do it?' Kurama deliberated.

'Have you really become that much of a fool? You have already answered your own question. He increased our innate psychic capabilities to include scrying through dreams.'

'I knew it! Those dreams I've been having weren't completely mine!' Kurama thought enthusiastically. 'The dream about Keiko-san was probably influenced by Yumiko-san's own romantic dreams. The dream about... Hiei... was influenced by... well, I can't be completely sure, but the only other person I know to have such an interest in alternative lifestyles is... Chiho-san! It all makes sense now! But why would Munashii make me dream of such things?'

'Congratulations on your realization of the very obvious,' Youko Kurama applauded in a decisively non-congratulatory tone. 'I couldn't care less about the undead one's intentions behind all of the recent events, but in the end, it has convinced me of one thing.'

'And what's that?' Kurama inquired.

'That you've become a watered-down, bastardized version of myself. You're becoming more and more like these pathetic humans you constantly interact with as time passes by, and I will not stand for it anymore. I will not allow you to jeopardize my existence.'

The demon fox turned his attention back at his half-demon opponent. 'I will not fade away. I will have my star's death!'

* * *

"Damn you," Yusuke cursed as he dug his fingers deep into his chest, his veins soon becoming visible under his clammy skin.

"I suppose you can remove that heart of yours out of your chest," Youko Kurama reckoned as he tapped his finger on his chin. "That is, if you can get through the girl's paralysis spell first. Oh well."

"So this is how you're going to go about your supposed 'star's death'? Kick 'em while they're down? You have no idea what a real fight is, do you?" Yusuke ranted as his veins and arteries continued to hypertrophy inside him. "If you really wanted to die, then what are you doing _this_ for? It doesn't make any sense at all."

"Don't be absurd. A suicide I can easily accomplish by myself," the youko heedlessly chided. "I don't want a meaningless death. I'm giving you a second chance to give me the memorable fight I deserve."

The demon fox curled his lips into a slight frown. "However, if for some reason you fail to live up to my expectations and die right here and now, I'll just have to start over and find myself another warrior worthy enough to give me my star's death."

"What the hell! After all the trouble you've caused just so you can fight _ me_, you're willing to start all over again?" Yusuke cried incredulously, despite the rising strain in his chest. "What happens to the girl? What happens to Kurama? Are you going to find even more victims to use until you get satisfied? When will you get satisfied? When is this going to end!"

Youko Kurama grinned maniacally. "Until I die."

Yusuke's pulsating heart promptly exploded then and there.

* * *

"Silver Fox, I'm... afraid."

"There's no need to fear. The phoenix is dead."

"That's what I'm afraid of! Be wary... Be wary of the dead phoenix!"

The girl wept.

* * *

"That scent... I know that scent," Youko Kurama whispered ecstatically. "This isn't the scent of a half-demon."

Yusuke unceremoniously ripped the ruptured heart out of his chest, his now-bloodshot eyes blank and expressionless.

"Be wary of the dead phoenix!" Midori whimpered in panic as she concentrated hard to paralyze the bloodied demon descendant.

One simple burst of crimson youki was all it took to silence the girl.

"So you killed the girl after all?" Youko Kurama idly noted, though his whole body readily tensed as his opponent began walking calmly towards his direction.

"She simply fainted. Although I can't say the same for you once I'm through with you," Yusuke evenly disclosed as inky-black markings began to appear on his skin.

"Hmmm. Your previous hesitation has ceased, and I can feel the mind-boggling youki brimming inside you." The youko eyed the reawakened demon spawn excitedly. "You seem to have changed a lot."

"I figured I can never kill you as myself; not while knowing that the real Kurama is still in there," Toushin Yusuke remakred, gesturing towards his adversary's direction. He smirked maliciously. "Like this, however, I have no such qualms."

"Good! Very good!" Youko Kurama eagerly appraised. "A youkai deserves to be killed by a youkai. You have passed the test; you are worthy enough to give me my star's death."

The legendary demon fox took a handful of seeds from his silver hair and threw them on the pavement of the concrete rooftop. Soon, a whole menagerie of plant life sprouted all around the youko, making the roof look more like the inside of a greenhouse.

"Usually, one plant seed is all it takes for me to ensure my victory. Multiple plant seeds from many different species of flora found all over the Demon World used simultaneously will counter all possibilities of attack... and defeat."

The kitsune laughed blissfully. "A star's death is only possible to achieve once an opponent wins against these sort of odds. Are you up to the challenge, descendant of Raizen?"

Toushin Yusuke licked his lips. "You did all this for me? How sweet." He fully manifested his flaming youki aura. "But I only need one thing from you; to bleed for me."

The two demons charged.

* * *

"The Silver Fox is now going to have his star's death, and I cannot stop it. But this is what he really wanted from the start. Should I be happy for him? Or should I be sad for myself? I have lost my only dream. Must I once again fade away like the invisible girl that I am?"

_It's only when I lose myself to someone else that I find myself... I find myself._

"These thoughts are strange; incomprehensible. They don't belong in my dreams. The Silver Fox should be my only dream."

_The Silver Fox, the Ice Queen, the boy of reflection, and the girl of dreams... How come I do not have a name?_

"Why must you have a name? You don't fit in this world. You don't fit in my dreams!"

_We are both dreamers, you and me. It's from nothingness that we flee to the realm of endless fantasy._

"I don't understand at all. Your thoughts make no sense. Leave me be. Let me fade in misery."

_Fade into me. I can only see you when you fade. Find yourself in me just as I found myself in you. What is your name?_

"I have no name. I am nothing. I am invisible."

_What is my name?_

"You are nameless. You are nothing to me."

_We are nothing. Let us peer into each other's nothingness._

"Why?"

_To find yourself._

"Why?"

_To find myself. _

"Why?"

_So that I could have a name._

* * *

"Yumiko-sempai is called the girl of dreams, and Chiho-sempai is called the Ice Queen. Even Minamino-sempai is called the boy of reflection. Can't I have my own codename, Invisible Girl-san?"

Midori ruffled the young boy's hair fondly. "To me, you'll always be..."

* * *

"SHINKO-CHAN!"

Both Toushin Yusuke and Youko Kurama halted in the middle of their mutual charge as they glanced at the source of the passionate address.

The humanoid head of the Janen Ju let out a silent scream as it hastily extricated itself from Midori Ohya's person.

'The girl was able to free herself from the Janen Ju...' the transformed half-demon started.

'...All by herself?' the stunned youko concluded.

Midori breathed heavily as she weakly grinned. "Shinko-chan. That's your name," she whispered to herself before she promptly fainted.

The aura of youki that surrounded Toushin Yusuke faded into nonexistence along with the tattoo-like marks on his skin. The half-demon sighed in relief.

"Urameshi Yusuke," the demon fox numbly started, "do you dare deny me of my star's death?"

"You bet I do," Yusuke grinningly replied as he stared at Midori's sleeping form. "I don't see any reason to kill you now."

"If all you need is a reason," Youko Kurama rasped as he manifested another Rose Whip, "then I'll happily provide you with one." He cracked the whip at the unconscious, bespectacled girl's face, missing by mere inches.

"Don't you ever," Yusuke angrily raged before he sputtered, "give up?" He blinked at the strange sight before him.

* * *

Kurama held his own hand at bay. Or rather, he held the hand his alter ego was controlling at bay. "It's over, Youko Kurama. Your star's death won't happen here."

Youko Kurama's reply was a punch to his own face.

Kurama spat the rusty-tasting blood out of his mouth. "I don't think beating ourselves up is needed in this situation. We'd look like fools. Doesn't your 'star's pride' feel ashamed of what you're doing?"

The demon fox persona scoffed, "Nonsense. You always beat yourself up for the most trivial of reasons." He attempted to whip Midori again. "My star's pride feels shame for only one thing; my continued existence as Minamino Shuichi. I will end this life as Youko Kurama! I will become myself for one last time!"

"Give it up, Youko Kurama!" Kurama shouted as he compelled his body to follow his commands.

The youko's paralyzed hand shook as it gripped the Bara Shibenjin tightly. "How long can you keep this up? Do you think I'll give up just because of one failed attempt? Every time you put your guard down, every time your mind is unconscious, I will take over. I'll do this until I get what I want."

"No. This ends now."

Using every last bit of his willpower, Kurama suddenly took out another gray seed from his silvery hair. A fog soon enveloped him as he swallowed the seed.

Yusuke's eyes soon widened in horror and disbelief as he saw the silhouette of a humanoid head form at the back of his friend's body. "Kurama... NO!"

* * *

"So we're again face to face, Minamino Shuichi," Youko Kurama growled to his other personality's now-visible self. He idly tensed a clawed hand. "Are you prepared to fight?"

"I am," Kurama calmly stated as he coolly sauntered towards the rapidly charging youko.

* * *

"Kurama... is bleeding?" Yusuke surveyed in disbelief as he looked at his friend in incredulity. "Where did all this blood come from?"

The Janen Ju was now gleefully feeding on the de-transformed, red-haired Kurama. Curiously enough, there were dark stains of crimson that came from strange crisscrossing marks that perforated the unconscious half-youko's body.

Kurama then screamed.

* * *

"Seems that your weak human form can barely hold its own in a real fight," Youko Kurama observed as he shredded his human self's calf. "You don't stand a chance. You never stood a chance."

Kurama cried in pain and agony, tears streaming down his cheeks. He tried to create his own Rose Whip, but to no avail. 'I can't think... clearly. This human body... too weak... I'm at his mercy.'

The demon fox frowned as he ripped a wad of Kurama's hair from its roots. "Yes, you are. You are weak, pathetic, and insignificant. I'm better than you in so many levels: Physically, emotionally, and mentally, I am your superior. Do you finally understand why I hate you so much? Do you finally understand why I have to do this? You were the one that forced me to reach this point, Minamino Shuichi."

Kurama wheezed as he tried to get up. His shaky, bleeding legs buckled as he fell down again. Bullets of sweat appeared on his face as excruciating pain shot through his injured limbs.

Youko Kurama snorted in disdain. "Stand up. Stand up and face your fate with dignity, you doppelganger!"

'Am I the doppelganger? Am I the counterfeit Kurama? Should I be the one to die today?' Kurama desperately contemplated as his youko self held him by his neck at arm's length.

"This mortal body will die," the youko started as he began to crush the red-haired boy's windpipe, "but my youko form will survive. I shall now become my true self."

* * *

Kurama's unconscious form began to cough and hack horrendously; a fact that unnerved Yusuke to no end. He wanted to rip the grinning demonoid plant entity out of his fellow Spirit Detective's body in anger, but stopped himself at the last minute, remembering Youko Kurama's stern warning.

"Kurama, ol' buddy... Hang on!" the raven-haired young man beseeched, his eyes determined and indomitable. "Don't you dare die on me!"

"The Silver Fox and the boy of reflection are fighting now."

"Huh?"

Yusuke looked at the sleeping Midori Ohya inquisitively, not completely sure if he was merely hearing things or not.

* * *

Youko Kurama looked at Kurama piteously. "It's inevitable, really. You've become the human mongrel we've taken residence in. You said to Munashii that there is no Minamino Shuichi, yet in fact you're starting to become the Minamino Shuichi he's referring to. You are now an unnatural perverseness. Things have come full circle. This perverseness must now vanish."

The demon fox raised an eyebrow at his human counterpart's facial expression. "What's with that pensive look? Is it a look of acceptance or a look of uncertainty? Don't look so thoughtful now. It's you who've decided to fade away, not I." He raised a clawed hand. "So do that for me. Fade away."

* * *

The boy of reflection's body went limp.

The Dark Phoenix screamed maniacally in sadness and grief. He cried for the senselessness of it all.

The boy of reflection was now going to show the Silver Fox his true self.

* * *

Youko Kurama lifted his counterpart's severed head grimly. "It finally ends here."

"What ends here?"

"Who's there?" the demon fox demanded ominously.

"I am," a redheaded four-year-old boy innocently confirmed.

"A boy?" The silver-haired demon eyed the young tot warily. "You're not afraid of me?"

The little boy idly shrugged. "Kaasan told me to not talk to strangers. You don't feel like a stranger to me, and kaasan told me to be nice to people who aren't strangers."

The golden-eyed fox demon narrowed his eyes. "So who are you exactly, child?"

"I am Minamino Shuichi," the boy answered politely. "It's nice to meet you."

"You are part of the abomination. Vanish," Youko Kurama snarled as he summoned another Bara Shibenjin and whirled it towards the young toddler.

A shorter-haired version of Kurama blocked the strike with his arm, ultimately sacrificing the limb as it got lopped off.

"You're the abomination! To do such things to a mere child is truly unforgivable!" the teenaged Kurama ardently avowed as he grit his teeth amidst burning pain. "You're the monster that should vanish!"

Youko Kurama peered through the juvenile doppelganger's thoughts: It was filled with memories of a bun-haired young lady friend playing with several children. The demon fox sneered. "Let me guess. This is all for 'Maya-san's sake', isn't it?"

The adolescent Kurama merely glared at the youko as he fearlessly shielded the four-year-old child he just rescued with his own body.

"Always the self-righteous martyr... Eh, Minamino?" the cruel youkai jeered as he sliced the youngster in half with one strike of his deadly weapon.

The blood-covered toddler looked at the demon fox impassively. "You said it ends here. Why isn't it ending? Why are you still doing this?"

Youko Kurama answered by means of crushing the child's head like a walnut. "You're trying my patience, Minamino."

"I am also part of the abomination. Kill me as well."

The youko whirled his head towards the origin of the new voice and its echoes. 'Echoes?'

It was then that they started coming. They came in all shapes, ages, and sizes; in various states of health, with an assorted set of beliefs, and with differing mind sets; but they were all undeniably... 'Minamino.'

"Then let me fade away too. I'm also an abomination, am I not?" a bloodied version of Kurama after his fateful battle with Shigure said, his body filled with deep cuts and gashes. "After all, I was the one who denied your existence during my fight. I also deserve your retribution."

"I am the human mongrel of perverseness," a redheaded ten-year-old boy said equably. "Make me vanish as well."

"I will die for kaasan. I'll do anything for her," another Kurama pledged, this time holding an enchanted glowing mirror of some sort.

"I fought as myself then; I will fight as myself now. No matter how you see it, that's the truth!"

"There are no stars in the Demon World. They are heavenly jewels found only in the Human World. I like the way they twinkle at night; it's as if they're twinkling for me. It's a silly thing, but it brings me so much happiness. Aren't these little things of happiness worth fighting for, even though they seem so insignificant?"

"Mother has done so much for me; too much, in fat. My life is hers. I'm willing to vanish for her."

"Enough! ENOUGH!" came Youko Kurama's enraged shout. Tendrils of the kitsune's haunting youki began permeating into demonoid plants of all shapes and sizes, engulfing a large number of Kurama duplicates. "I don't care if there are ten or ten thousand Minaminos! I will not allow you to destroy my identity and sense of self! I will not resign myself to a fate worse than death!"

Blood was spilled endlessly as one Kurama clone after the other was murdered brutally and efficiently. Body parts were strewn everywhere; as assorted and varied as the menagerie of persons from which they came from. The demon fox slaughtered all of his alter ego's replicas pitilessly and mercilessly.

There was not a pool, but a river of blood. It was not a slaughter anymore, but a veritable massacre. The youko howled in fury as he bathed himself in the dirty human blood of his other self.

"I finally understand."

Youko Kurama let out a feral growl at the last remaining Minamino. "You understand nothing. The only thing you and your endless reflections blabber about is nonsense. You've spread like a malignancy inside me; a virus. But I will not let your perverseness overwhelm me."

The bloodied and torn Kurama looked at his youko self broodingly. "I finally understand the true meaning of your star's death and why you want it so badly."

"The only thing you need to understand about a star's death," the silver-haired fox declared as he prepared his clawed hand for yet another strike, "is just that; death!"

Kurama closed his eyes as he mouthed the words, "Though it seems that you really want to die, the truth is, you're actually afraid of death."

Youko Kurama heedlessly tore through most of his human counterpart's left breast, his face an expressionless mask.

"That's the reason why you hastily imbued your dying spirit to the body of a human child. You didn't want to die. Your will to live was... is... incredibly strong. You're a survivor."

The demon fox's sharp claws easily punctured through one of Kurama's lungs, making it difficult for the redhead to breathe.

"But even though you've survived, a lot of changes began to take place. You slowly became Minamino Shuichi. No, _I_ slowly became Minamino Shuichi, in the sense that I was the one who decided to live as a human. You're the part of me that still remains as Youko Kurama. You were afraid of change because death isn't just a grim finality. It's also the herald of change. I represented that change. I represented the sort of death that you'll never want to have; a death by 'fading away'; a death by means of change."

Upon hearing the words, the youko wrathfully ripped Kurama's punctured lung out, causing the youth to choke and cough in his own blood. But the redheaded boy determinedly held fast onto Youko Kurama's wrist, his eyes burning with resolve.

"I cannot die; my life isn't my own anymore. My numerous reflections have shown me that my life is now owned by my friends and family-people that I care about. If I go, then all these people will be affected and hurt as well. I cannot afford that. I'm not just fighting for my survival; I'm fighting for everybody's happiness."

"You yourself know that my will to live is strong," Youko Kurama hissed through wispy breaths. "You know that it's either you or me."

"I know," Kurama said pensively as his eyes shimmered. "Unfortunately," a tear fell from the redhead's eye, "it's not your choice to make." From there, the Janen Ju appeared beside him and turned into chitinous tentacles of spiked death.

* * *

"Kurama, what happened back there?" Yusuke quietly asked as he and the redhead made their way back home.

"I had an... epiphany of sorts," Kurama answered, wanly smiling.

"So should I begin calling you Minamino from now on or are you still Kurama?"

The red-haired boy chuckled. "I'm both, actually."

* * *

Midori opened her eyes. She saw a ceiling; a familiar ceiling. The memories in her head were blurry.

But it was a blur that she easily focused into crystal clarity.

"I understand now. The Dark Phoenix and the Silver Fox must have brought me home after... the events last night were resolved."

She narrowed her eyes. "Minamino-san and the Silver Fox are one. He used his special mind-controlling pollens on me and my family so that we'd forget about my recent disappearance."

She picked up her glasses on the coffee table near her bed and put them on. "He wanted me to forget, but those are events that I cannot forget-I can never forget." She sighed as the early morning sunrise glinted on her spectacles. "Today is just another day, but it's not."

* * *

Kurama and the youko fought for what seemed like an eternity; ironically enough, it was Kurama who was winning. Nevertheless, the youko's star-like pride was not going to be denied so easily.

Youko Kurama lay cringing on the ground for quite a while as Kurama just stared at him blankly. At last, the Legendary Makai Demon had fallen. Curiously enough, the battered but triumphant young human didn't feel the slightest bit relieved or happy about it. The whole incident gave the both of them a strange, surreal, and... for one of them... an inexplicable feeling of dissatisfaction.

'No. Stand up. Stand up,' Youko Kurama listlessly commanded his unmoving body as he blindly scoured the ground for some sort of leverage. Alas, his spaghetti legs would not obey his orders. "STAND UP, DAMMIT!" He flipped himself over and dug his sharp claws into his thighs, using the stinging pain to wake up and re-stimulate his numbed limbs.

The pain was unrelenting. Youko Kurama had heard that death brought forth a pure white light to one whose time had come. All he could see was blackness. No warmth, no comfort, just shadow and things hidden. How appropriate for him, to die as he lived...

"Stand down, youko. It's over. You've lost," Kurama stated, stopping the congregating tentacles mere inches from the youko's vital points. The kitsune stood up still. "You're overdoing it, youko! Stand down. I won't repeat myself any longer."

The youko's eyes narrowed and watered, but his vision would not return. Was he suffering the karma for Yomi's fate? "Don't tell me what to do. If you're so sure that I'm through, then finish me off right now if you can. I'm going to win. That is all."

The demon simply struck the darkness, as if insulted by its presence. He did so a second time, then a third time. He blindly attacked again and again like a madman, until he lost count of his strikes; until his injured arm numbed; until he was actually able to hit something; until his single-minded effort helped him discern the whereabouts of the human's damnable cage of Janen Ju with a satisfying wet crunch and a spray of chitinous shards.

"Give it up already," Kurama emptily stated, feeling as though he was beginning to sound like a broken record, saying words more out of habit than of his own volition. In fact, he wasn't quite sure if yielding and surrendering was what he wanted the youko to do. Nevertheless, he went into detail, continuing, "Time is not on your side anymore. I've won. You have nothing left to give or to prove, so stop this nonsense of yours."

"No. Not even in the face of an apocalypse. I will never compromise," the youko growled as he struggled and managed to get on one knee, blood from both his abdomen and leg wounds spilling all over the place.

"Quitters never win, winners never quit, but those who never win and never quit are idiots," Kurama bluntly retorted-more likely bluffed-as he readied himself for battle.

Fact was, the last Kurama's condition actually looked far worse than his counterpart's was. To make matters worse, the transformed Janen Ju's tentacles were beginning to dwindle in number, its body degenerating instead of regenerating.

The Silver Fox was finally able to stand up on his own two feet after much grunting and panting. "Me? An idiot? JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM!" He charged, swinging the ugly, twisted, and rubbery morass of a sword-a combination of demon plants he made to counteract Kurama's Janen Ju-at the backpedaling half-youko and making it suddenly whiplash with a flick of his wrist, earning him a shallow yet decisive cut on his opponent's chest; the defensive genius's guard was finally breaking down.

"You're Youko Kurama. I know. So what?" Kurama confirmed with a deadpan voice, wincing inwardly at the torture that both his strenuous movement and the youko's strike produced.

"'So what?' you say? Look at yourself!" the youko spat as he became a haze of white, picking Kurama apart with his weapon piece by piece. "You have more gaping holes in your body than I have tails, yet you were still the one left standing while I was the one who fell." A slice to the earlobe here; a stab to the leg there. "To see such a weakling like yourself get the best of me just because I can't go beyond my limits is unacceptable. My pride as a youko will not take it. The mere thought of it-I can't bear it at all!" Then there was the slash that went a little too near the redhead's jugular.

"Huh. I've heard that before," Kurama smirked as he did his best to retaliate against his enemy, kicking and punching the youko right where it hurt the most, which would be his groin, his gut, and his bleeding legs. "Thing is, we feel the same way, though for altogether different reasons. It still doesn't make a bit of difference in who wins this fight in the end, though."

"Shut up. You're nothing like me, so stop comparing your thoughts to mine!" Youko Kurama reproached, using his fervent will to stretch the his sword to its furthermost reach. "I was supposed to become a great and powerful Nine-tailed Golden Kitsune! I should have been one of the Three Great S-Class Rulers of Makai! But because of you, I've lot all of that! Bring me back my life! Bring me back my true DESTINY!"

Blood pooled underneath the human as he wheezed and collapsed in a pathetic heap, the spray of red liquid spilling right into the ground. Nevertheless, he still persisted in getting up. 'I was wrong about you, youko. I never imagined that you could be this passionate in a fight.'

Learning from Yusuke Urameshi's lead in his fight with Suzako, the youko started to exponentially increase his flickering demon power by putting his very life force on the line. Kurama trembled in kind, feeling the cold flames of youki eat through his very soul. 'Youko Kurama, I've misjudged you. I thought you were calmer and more manipulative than this.

Kurama felt a wave of air pressure build around them the moment before the youko's sword thrust connected, and jerked away from the blow. He heard the shift of the youko's shoe, crunching the gritty dirt slightly as he planted his weight, and knew the he was about to follow up with another whiplash attack. Kurama hopped back for some breathing space. 'To manage to persist through this disadvantageous fight up to this point... Just how many fighters can do such a thing? Who would have thought that you'd have such a reckless side to you?'

A swift rush of air brushed Kurama's face, producing a slight graze on his cheek in the wake of the youko's missed lunge; the latter was slower now, but still just as dangerous as before. The former took the opening to step in and throw a combination of sharp but ineffective punches to the fox demon's torso. The timbre of each impact sounded like he was punching solid rock.

'Well, I've also been overdoing it in this fight. I'm also testing my very limits, because nothing less than that can stop you at this point. Compared to you and your great need to win, this match of ours means nothing to me. But since this fight means so much to you, then I'll also risk everything to win. Here it is: the limits of my power.' Neither was willing to give an inch. Despite appearances, this was no longer a fight against each other's techniques, but of will and mind power.

* * *

A memory... not of his, but of the abomination's... made itself known inside Youko Kurama's mind. The memory of the ten-year-old Shuichi Minamino reflection...

Shiori Minamino and the young Shuichi quietly looked out of the latter's bedroom window. The small child knew that his foster mother was merely waiting for him to break the ice as they both stared dazedly at the starry night sky. So typically, like the daring youko that he was, he took the dare and humored the woman.

"Kaasan, how do stars die?" Kurama quietly asked.

"Scientifically speaking?" Shiori queried in kind.

Kurama shook his head. "Philosophically speaking," he said, partially repeating what his mother had said earlier.

Shiori let out a laugh; a laugh so gentle it reminded the reincarnated youko of the tinkling of gilded bells.

"Okay. My father told me this when I was your age, so listen carefully. A star dies in two ways. It either crashes and burns into blazing glory or it simply fades away." She seemed to size up Kurama for a bit before she continued excitedly, saying, "Now, philosophically speaking, stars are a prideful lot. They'd rather die by crashing and burning rather than by fading away. So, in a sense, it's almost heartbreaking to see a star fade away."

Kurama seemed to take Shiori's answer gravely as he nodded, solemnly contemplating his mother's words with judicious thoughtfulness in his head.

Shiori ruffled Kurama's hair familiarly, smiling. "It's nice that I've finally found a way to talk to you, son. You're practically a gifted genius."

Instead of beaming at the motherly praise, Kurama merely supposed aloud, "Aren't there persons who live out their lives the same way: by either going out in a blaze of glory or by slowly fading away?"

Shiori smiled as she kissed Kurama's forehead. "Those things only happen to stars, dear. Now off to bed you go. We can talk about that some other day."

* * *

"DIE FOR MY STAR'S DEATH, KURAMA!" the Silver Fox suddenly howled as his sword began to act up, spewing all sorts of horrendous things from its flesh.

''Kurama'? What...?' Kurama mused to himself in astonishment as a wayward tentacle shoved him backwards, making him slip and fall. He grabbed hold of the nearest Janen Ju tree branch for dear life, but was still more or less a sitting duck to the youko's whiles.

Cords of armored flesh lanced down from the youko's pulsating weapon, stabbing into the Janen Ju's trunk with a hideous splay of spines. The limbs were segmented, with deadly edges protruding from each of its innumerable joints. The moment Kurama spotted it, half a dozen more of the chitin-covered members speared into the tree behind him, all emerging from-

"NAAAARRRMM!" the youko shrieked, slack-jawed, his arm numbing from an out-of-the-blue barrage of pain that suddenly assaulted his senses, rendering his youki control null and outright killing his sentient weapon's frightening evolution. He had passed his limits before Kurama did. The fight was finally over.

The two combatants stayed silent for a little while longer, the both of them breathing heavily for a variety of reasons that ranged from utter fatigue to inhuman anguish. Finally, the human broke the ice, asking, "Why did you call me 'Kurama'?"

The Silver Fox tilted his head. "Why did you call me 'Kurama' when you never did so before?" the human repeated, getting up on one knee and looking straight at the youko's indifferent features.

There was even more silence. They gazed at each other for a little while longer... or it might have been more like a stare; in any case, it went on long enough for Kurama to see himself reflected in the black pupils of the youko's golden eyes.

The redhead probed further. "Did you also see the memories I saw of my mother when I... we... were children? The ones where she explained what a star's death was?" Kurama left the rest of his question's implications hanging in the air, but the demon would not relinquish his adamant silence _or_ his steadfast glare, unfazed for the most part.

Kurama soon realized that he was asking the youko what could've been the very last words he'd ever say alive. Consequently, the youko snorted a short, contemptuous guffaw at his alter ego's churlish thought. Then, as if to spite the human even further, he promptly left the mortal coil, a ghost of a derisive smirk etched on his face as he faded away in blue embers.

"..."

Kurama bowed his head low and clenched his fists in regret before he embraced the youko's suspended body tightly, the disturbing hypocrisy of experiencing guilt for killing a mortal enemy-albeit said enemy being his alter ego-be damned. Tears streamed down his cheeks; tears of sympathy, he reckoned. Something just died inside of him, and he was now paying his respects to it.

Because of the recent turn of events, Kurama never really got to find out whether or not the youko saw the same flashbacks that he did in the middle of their tragic battle. He never really knew if the Silver Fox discovered the origins of his own fatalistic philosophy. He never learned if there was a hidden reason behind the youko's 'star's death' beyond using it as a means to ironically save his own life from... Kami-knew-what.

Did the youko see his 'blaze of glory' as a last resort or an inescapable fate? Why would he hold dear an unsophisticated philosophy taught to him by Shuichi Minamino's mother? Was this battle a test of some sort, or a means for the youko to redeem his past sins? Did he feel as though he was released from a monumental burden or did he instead suffer utter disappointment for failing to succeed? Was his ultimate goal to die or was it merely an inevitable risk that he had to go through to fulfill his goals?

The half-youko wasn't quite sure what to think; perhaps some questions weren't meant to be answered.

Kurama exhaled laboriously as he silently prayed, 'I am not you, two hearts of one mind, but I feel myself through you. Is it 'I am' or 'we are'? Separate but one and the same and the lines between us blur; distinct but indistinct yet distinct again, and the lines between us blur one and the same but separate. Is it 'we are' or 'I am'? And through you, I feel myself; two hearts of one mind, but you are not me. And yet you are me.'

* * *

"Shuichi... Shuichi?"

Who was he really?

"Shuichi! I'm so sorry that I upset you. I don't know exactly what I've said to offend you, but I hope you'll forgive your silly mother despite her foolishness."

Was he willing to live a lie again? Was he willing to live under the shaky foundations of pretense and deceit?

"Shuichi, please...!"

He found his answer in his mother's pleading, tearful eyes.

"Kaasan! I'm so sorry, kaa-"

He embraced his mother as she profusely cried and apologized to him. He had found his truth in her.

He was Shuichi Minamino.

Or rather, he was his mother's Shuichi Minamino; as long as she saw him as that, then that would be his truth.

He smiled, his heart ablaze with passion and his body aflame in his mother's warmth. 'Today is just another day, but it's not.'

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Shigeru's bereavement.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	14. Chapter 13: Winter

He heard them: Voices; voices from the hallway.

"Whatever happened to that Ohya chick? You know, the cute girl with glasses? The one who made the Fashion Club VP give us all a free show?"

'Ohya chick?' Were they talking about his sempai? He didn't know any other female by that name, but he couldn't be too sure in any case.

"Yeah, I'm still wondering how she did that; rip a girl's clothes to shreds, I mean. That'd be real cool. Hehehehe."

"You pervert! Get your mind out of the gutter! I bet you've never seen a naked woman outside of a magazine centerfold!"

He didn't understand a word they were saying, but he still listened intently to their weird conversation... just because... just in case.

"I heard she was a practitioner of Black Magic."

"Oh please. Now you're sounding like one of those kooks from the Paranormal Club."

Perhaps it wasn't his sempai after all. They couldn't possibly be talking about the Midori Ohya that he knew.

"Well, I for one think that it's yet another case of Chiho Sasae and her damn Legion swallowing a victim whole. I bet her father, the principal, has something to do with it. Bitch."

So Chiho Sasae had something to do with this other Ohya person. No, it still couldn't be his sempai. Midori was Chiho's best friend. Chiho would never hurt a best friend of hers.

"Oh, puh-lease! Where's your proof? For a guy, you sure have an awful lot of interest in rumor mongering."

"You really are antagonistic, aren't you?"

Yes. They were probably just that: Rumors. Just rumors; there was no truth in them.

"One thing is for sure. She's definitely not coming back to Meiou anytime soon."

Not just rumors. They were outright lies!

"Damn shame. She was real cute for a nerd."

And so Shigeru Amano ran across the hallway; away from those damned, insensitive voices.

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

It is the end of the beginning of the end.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Winter**

* * *

_And now, a peek at Shigeru's hopes and dreams..._

_Shigeru Amano felt frozen. Some distant corner of his mind that wasn't completely numb from shock was aware that his mouth had sagged open in amazement, and that he hadn't blinked in a long time; that he might never blink again because he just couldn't stop staring. _

_He stood there, staring at a girl, his mouth hanging open slightly, and his gaze was so open and intense, he felt unable to move, unable to speak. Could it really be her? She could see him. Hear him. And she was... was... He swallowed hard. 'Oh... wow.' _

_Shigeru rubbed his eyes and looked on, completely dumbstruck by the presence of the person staring back at him. It was a face he didn't expect to see ever again. Either that, or it was Shuichi Minamino in drag. "M-M-Minami...?"_

_Yumi Minami smilingly kissed the tip of Shigeru's nose, calming the panicky boy down. "It's nice to see you again, Shigeru-kun. How are you? It's been a long time since we last spoke to each other." _

_With a courage obtained from his teacher's warm presence, Shigeru confessed in not so many words, "The moments I've spent with you were among the happiest in my life. You've really made an impact on me, both as a teacher and as a person. I just wanted you to know that. Thank you. Thank you very much." Shigeru respectfully bowed down, then lifted himself up and made the typical hand-over-head gesture his Minami-look-alike upperclassman was so fond of._

_To Shigeru's amazement and concealed delight, Miss Minami clutched him in a tight yet velvet-soft embrace while squealing, "Thank you, Shigeru-kun! My goodness, if only I were half my age, then I'd be practically swooning over you and your endearing little speeches of sweet puppy love! THAT'S SO CUTE!"_

_"Child?" a voice rasped from out of the blue, waking both Minami and Shigeru from their intimate reverie. Shigeru's eyes flew wide open, but his body felt like lead; excitement, exhilaration, and a whole other menagerie of feelings and emotions engulfing him as he felt all of his-for lack of a better, descriptive term-dreams come true. _

_A subdued silence befell Minamino's Little Admirer; the world seemed to hold its breath as he boggled at the person before him. For the longest time, he just stared blankly at the one man he didn't expect to see again in a thousand lifetimes; his presence today was even more surprising than Minami's return, which was merely a once-in-a-lifetime deal._

_"...Grampa?"_

* * *

"I can't believe Midori-chan's parents did that to her, and for such a minor offense! To humiliate their only daughter like that is totally unforgivable!" Yumiko ranted irritably as she fussed over her handbag's contents. "And I don't understand how they could have found out about that incident with Masami. After everything we've done to cover it up."

"Midori-chan came clean. She told her parents everything," Chiho straightforwardly stated, cutting off Yumiko at mid-tirade. "I should know. I asked Midori-chan herself before she was transferred to another school."

Yumiko simply stared at her friend, dumbfounded, before she exclaimed, "Why would she want to do that? After all that we've done for her? She knows that her parents are incredibly strict, so what the hell possessed her to do that?"

Chiho shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I can't blame you for your ignorance of Midori-chan's personality quirks; you've only known her since high school, after all. But I'll have you know that she isn't just sugar and spice. She has this messianic complex that compels her to become a willing victim at times. A martyr, if you will. That's just the way she is."

Yumiko crossed her arms and pouted at her friend. "But that still doesn't excuse her parents from doing what they did. Sending Midori to a private school just when she's about to graduate from Meiou? Talk about overreacting! They totally blew the situation out of proportion! The punishment didn't fit the crime! They-" Yumiko halted her impassioned speech for the second time as she saw Chiho shake her head. "What?"

"This isn't the first time Midori-chan's parents 'punished' her like that," Chiho informed, accompanying the statement with her habitual finger-wagging. "But it's not exactly... unwarranted. For one thing, Midori-chan wasn't exactly a saint during junior high."

"What happened during her junior high years?" Yumiko concernedly inquired, her curiosity piqued. Though she wasn't willing to admit it to Chiho, there really was very little she knew of her bespectacled friend of three years. "Don't tell me that a Masami-like incident actually happened before!"

Chiho merely nodded. "Midori-chan was a... 'brooder' before, for lack of a better term. She didn't have that many friends. She and I... talked, but it was more out of courtesy as seatmates than anything else." The flamboyant girl then bit her lip. "She was also a bit of a problem child. Not one of our classmates really wanted to talk to her because... they were afraid of her. What happened to Masami was mild compared to what happened in junior high."

Yumiko wanted to exclaim to Chiho, "Cut to the chase! What happened during junior high!" but the words died in her mouth as she felt the palpable atmosphere of seriousness in the air.

"A popular group of girls in our junior high class... bitchy girls... used to tease Midori-chan a lot. But there was this one very nasty incident where the leader of the group embarrassed Midori-chan in front of the whole class while she was reciting in front. It was a mostly juvenile prank, and I don't even remember the exact details of what happened, but until that one time I had never seen Midori-chan so furious and mortified. The next thing we knew, the girl was already convulsing, frothing in the mouth, and sweating blood. She was rushed to the hospital afterwards. Until now, doctors are still baffled by what happened to her."

Pausing for a bit to close Yumiko's agape mouth by cupping her hand over the former girl of dream's chin, Chiho resumed, "She was transferred to another school the year after. The school administration never suspected Midori-chan of anything, but everyone who saw what happened knew better. More importantly, Midori-chan's parents knew better. They made Midori quit school that very same year, despite her high academic marks and her clean record since the school didn't blame her for the incident and everything."

"Wow," Yumiko stated as she let the popular girl's words sink in, adding, "I never realized that the Ohya family had it tough. Midori-chan's problem, how...?"

"I'm not completely sure what Midori-chan's folks did to solve her... little dilemma. I certainly can't judge them based on their decisions. In fact, I just have no idea, Yumi-chan. No idea whatsoever."

"I see," Yumiko replied in kind.

The two girls walked silently in the halls for a while, hurrying just a little bit after hearing the school chime ring a few minutes later.

Yumiko suddenly paused as she stopped in the middle of her stride. Not seeing that coming, Chiho awkwardly bumped into her transfixed friend's back.

"Hey! What gives? We're already late for class! While there's such a thing as being fashionably late, if you don't get your butt into gear, we'll be totally...!"

"Chiho..." Yumiko quietly murmured, cutting off Chiho for a change instead of the other way around. "It's... It's Midori-chan's friend! It's that little boy she always hangs out with!" she exclaimed, pointing at the young boy who was standing ten feet away from them, staring wistfully at the stairs leading to the building's roof deck.

"You mean Minamino-sama's little admirer?" Chiho queried, blinking. "What about him?"

Yumiko paused for a bit before replying, "Don't you see the look he has on his face? He still hasn't heard about what happened to Midori-chan! He's probably been visiting the roof deck just to check on her, not knowing anything at all! He needs to know!"

"Yumi-chan, you know I'm just saying this strictly because you're, like my friend and all, so... mind your own business," Chiho rejoined, frustrated at how juvenile her impulsive friend was acting. "We have more important things to worry about. Like, oh, I don't know... getting to the Physics Lab before we serve bucket duty again?"

"Fine! You go on right ahead," Yumiko resolutely declared as she advanced towards the direction of Minamino's so-called Little Admirer. "I have to tell him, Chiho. He's a good friend of Midori-chan's. He deserves to know."

* * *

_Winter... the immaculate symbol of death.  
I want to become winter... yet..._

_Am I so weak?  
Am I so strong?  
Am I really nobody?  
Must I lie?_

_There is a great deal of weakness in me.  
So much hate and anger.  
So much pain,  
Yet so little._

* * *

It was a white, cold, and empty world. It was the first day of winter, after all: The winter break had finally come. It was supposed to be a joyful occasion in retrospect. It was, in any case, the last class of the year. Typically, not a soul was in sight; the numerous shoe prints on the snow-encrusted school grounds emphasized the fact.

Having wandered around aimlessly inside the school campus while outright skipping all of his classes for the entire day, Shigeru felt as if he were at a complete and total loss with what was going on with the world at large.

Not that it would actually make any difference if he left the school or not, nor would it make any difference if there were people inside Meiou High or not. It was still a white, cold, and empty world to him regardless. He didn't exist to them, and they didn't exist to him. Perhaps he should have been the 'invisible boy' to Midori's 'invisible girl.'

"Midori-sempai."

His eyes looked bleak: Tiny pinpoints of light shone on the blackened orbs. He stared at his near-surreal surroundings numbly. He wanted to cry, but no tears came forth, so he cried in the inside, and it hurt so much... too much... just to do so.

He had a million 'why' questions in his head, all centering around one topic... but he did not air even one question, nor did he dare to address that one topic. 'No, I can't. It hurts me too much.'

The young man felt helpless, afraid, lost; but most of all, he felt lonely. It was an inky-black feeling that had him teetering at the very edge of his sanity. Such a raw and powerful emotion it was, indeed.

The pain and depression he suffered from was unbearable. It wasn't an excruciating hurt that rendered all human thought inert because of the ferocity of his pain and suffering. It was something completely different.

This was the sort of pain that numbed and stung like frostbite. It would gnaw at your very bones until your whole body rotted and disintegrated, but you would be too anesthetized to actually feel it. That was the pain he was suffering from. It was a pain he couldn't feel, yet it still hurt.

Real, tangible pain was more bearable than this pain. It was even more pleasurable, in some cases. Burning, seething pain was infinitely more desirable than the cold and numbing ache he felt right now.

He wanted the burning pain.

He espied his surroundings warily as he made his way inside the Science and Technology building. Seeing that the coast was clear, he proceeded to an empty laboratory at the ground floor where he found a convenient dark corner to crouch upon as he wallowed in his own self pity.

As he went into a fetal position, several thoughts entered his head-thoughts that completely contradicted his intentions. 'I shouldn't do this. This is wrong. Somebody... anybody... please stop me.'

Over and over these thoughts reverberated in his head as he took out a small, nondescript razor and cut himself.

His breath soon came in quick gasps as he extricated the remnants of an old plaster strip from his other wrist. His heartbeat went wild as he reopened the old wound. Pulse and breath began to coincide together in ghastly harmony as the trickle of blood began to get thicker and redder by the minute, his cold and numbed hand feeling the warmth of his own blood.

"Please... somebody... stop me," Shigeru repeated as his eyelids soon began to grow heavy. He shook his head as if to clear it, wiping the thick, red blood from his wrist with his fingers.

Soon, his mind traveled to another place; another time. The past mingled with the present as the future continued to elude his mind's grasp.

* * *

_In the depths of despair,  
So close yet so far,  
Within reach, in the vicinity,  
Yet unforgivable,  
Unable to harm others,  
Feelings scuttle by._

_Nothing can be seized,  
Agony beyond words,  
Overwhelming loneliness,  
Abandoned I shall continue to be,  
Hang on to the devil at bay,  
Allow nobody to hold the torch._

_Disappear into the background,  
Another ghost as I stride by,  
Nothing of significance,  
Life is fleeting,  
Temptation is great,  
However, I am a coward._

* * *

The buzz of the fire alarm awoke the whole Kino Junior High campus one sleepy spring day. "Okay, class; fire alarm drills. You all know what to do. Move it, move it!"

Shigeru excitedly went along with the drill. He was even the first one in line, but his classmates then made two lines of their own away from the young boy instead of lining up behind him. He quickly went to one of the other two lines in haste.

People began to sneak away from him as they went to their respective groups; some even went to the other line outright in avoidance of him. He just bowed his head in shame as he made his way in front, his heart caught in his throat.

Murmurs of "Make way for Shinko-chan" surrounded the pitiful boy. He wanted to ignore the jeers, but he just couldn't help himself; he heard it anyway. Present ridicule was soon mixed with his remembrances of past hecklings he went through for most of his life.

"It's the crybaby. He's probably going to cry again."

"Hey, look. It's the little girl."

"What a fruit basket. He should go line up with the girls."

"Ew! Don't even joke about that!"

The lines began moving, with Shigeru falling behind, the large gap between him and the second to the last person readily apparent.

"Amano Shigeru, I said go form two lines with your other classmates. Stop wandering around and line up already!" his teacher strictly scolded.

"But I am lined up, ma'am," Shigeru weakly protested.

"Never mind. Will you stop and listen for once? And go to the front, you're the smallest one."

"B-but ma'am...!" Shigeru feebly implored, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"And I mean _now_, Shigeru-kun," his teacher berated in a stern voice, allowing no room for any contestation nor disavowal.

Head hung low, Shigeru did what he was told to, a rising anxiety slowly churning inside of him. 'No. You don't understand, ma'am. They will... They will...!'

As soon as Shigeru finally made it to the front of the lines, his discomfort grew to incredible proportions. The laughing sounds from his back increased his anxiety. He wanted to look behind him to see if any of the bullies were putting derogatory notes on his back, or worse. His ears picked up each and every little snicker and guffaw; he was unsure whether the mirth derived from the miscellaneous chortles was at his expense. The laughter grew.

Something was wrong. He just knew it.

Daring to peek back even a little, wishing heartily that, even at the cost of finding a humiliating note on his back, someone was still behind him.

There was no note on his back. Unfortunately, there were no people behind him either.

All his classmates, huddled together at the other line, burst into a single, jocular laughter upon seeing Shigeru realize his mortifying state. Mockery and ridicule soon followed, each and every word heard by the young boy's sensitive ears and equally sensitive heart.

Shigeru couldn't help himself. He simply cried then and there.

The jeers and taunts merely grew in volume as the boy sobbed loudly. The more he cried, the more he was taunted, which made him cry even more. It was a vicious cycle that finally culminated to a humiliating display of his own wretchedness as he flailed his arms wildly and thrashed about in an attempt to somehow stop all the heckling.

He was officially branded as a freak and a weirdo that fateful day.

It was probably the worst day of his life. He really did want to die then and there.

Later that inauspicious day, inside one of the bathroom stalls, Shigeru's wish almost came true as he slit his wrists for the first time.

* * *

_Where does it come to an end?  
Where do I?  
Am I here at this point?  
Right at this time, right at the present?  
Or am I no more?  
Do you understand?  
Do I?  
The blood trickles down._

_Slit your wrist,  
Slash your arm,  
Cut your leg,  
Rip apart the flesh,  
Skin that holds you together,  
Tear it apart._

_See the blood,  
Your bones,  
Your essence,  
See it escape the wound,  
You're cleansed,  
Pain subsides._

_You'll stop tomorrow,  
You promise,  
You know it's a lie._

You're addicted.

* * *

Kurama's eyes boggled; bewilderment, confusion, and a whole other collection of feelings and emotions engulfing him as he woke up from his latest indistinct... and mostly imageless... dream.

Kurama rested his face on his hands while putting his elbows on his knees. He was mystified beyond mere uncertainty. Utter puzzlement was etched on his face as he struggled to catch up with his breath. 'That was... different.'

Kurama's past dreams-or rather, his take on the dreams of Yumiko and Chiho-were fantasies with rather vivid images and visions of his classmates' wishes and fancy. His latest dreams-dreams that were thankfully not his own nor his alter ego's-were far more effusive than visual; more symbolic than literal.

They were dreams composed of words, not images, making it all the more harder for him to comprehend the dreams' supposed meanings. 'It'll certainly be much more easier to understand once I figure out Munashii's intentions.'

A gust of cold wind suddenly caressed the half-youko's face. His grassy green eyes lighted up as a small snowflake gently landed on his face, melting like a tear on his cheek.

'Ah. So it looks like it's going to snow hard later,' he reckoned to himself as he brushed away the moist remnants of the snowflake. 'It's getting late. Kaasan will be worried if I don't get home soon, especially with this kind of weather we're having. I better get home now. The train station is only a block away, after all.'

A gentle sprinkle of snow began to waltz around Kurama. It was a beautiful yet heartbreaking dance. 'So here it is; the first day of winter,' the kitsune surmised as he willed himself to move amidst the melancholic spectacle.

Kurama took one last look at the waltzing pinpoints of white before hurrying towards the train station, a forgotten urgency nagging him inside.

* * *

_Someone save me.  
Is it too late?  
Can I not seek redemption?  
Can I get better?  
What's wrong?_

_Everything.  
Nothing._

_It's all so simple,  
But too complex._

_Can I survive here?  
Can I survive now?_

_Survive what?_

_I'm so normal,  
But such a freak.  
Am I too frightened?  
Am I just a coward?  
Must I lie to myself?_

_WHAT DO I FEEL?_

_Grampa, I'm sick,  
How can you not see?  
Grampa, I'm so sick,  
Grampa, I have bad thoughts,  
Make them go away.  
Make them go away!_

* * *

"Grampa! Grampa! Why do they hate me so much? Why do they always want to hurt me, to make fun of me? I never did anything to them! Is it because I look like a girl? Is it because I always act like a sissy, like they say? Is it because I don't deserve to live since I'm so weak?"

'The world, child, is harsh and cruel. A place without reason to the innocent: a place where the small, the helpless, and the pure are soiled and ruined. These things you are coming to understand, yet don't let them doom your sweet soul; your divine spirit, the flawless heavenly spark that makes you special.'

"Why don't they like me for who I am? Am I that despicable to them? Am I that pitiful? Should I just disappear? My heart is empty, grampa. You're the only one I have, grampa."

'Hush, child. You're also special to me. You're a rough diamond, a veritable magnificent star that has fallen from the azure halls of Heaven itself. But a rough diamond must be tempered by pressure before its true beauty arises. A star is most beautiful when it falls and streaks across the sky in a blaze of glory.'

"Can I never belong with anyone, grampa? Am I only a joke to other people? Someone to be laughed at and ridiculed; mocked, and in the end, forgotten? What am I to them, grampa? What are they to me? How could they hurt me so much like this? Why do I feel so empty inside?"

'Can you not see that this is all for the best, child? Can you not see that all these trials and tribulations will ultimately turn you into the brilliant diamond star you were meant to be?'

"Grampa, can't you hear me?"

'Child, can't you?'

* * *

_Is this true?  
Or just a fantasy?  
Make it real.  
Must I live in dreams?  
Can harshness go so far?  
Could I feel this way?  
Have I lost my mind?_

_I'm not, I'm not.  
I don't feel that way.  
Not about that._

_Who am I?  
Who am I?  
Who am I?_

_Do you know?  
Of course not.  
Does she?  
Who's she?  
Can I tell her?_

* * *

'How easily an innocent child's hurt is forgotten; with the mere magic of something so simple as a shooting star. Especially when it falls directly into your life.

'What is it child? What wonderful something is this? Perhaps it's something an angel tossed aside for a frightened little one like you to find?'

* * *

"Class recitation: Amano Shigeru."

Shigeru weakly raised his hand in trepidation. He was put in the spotlight again; something which he hated very much. He could almost feel the dozens of prodding, jeering eyes, inspecting his every move, waiting for him to do that one single mistake that they could use against him.

His first day in Meiou High, and already things were going awry.

Then came the murmurs-hundreds of nasty, hissing whispers that threatened to engulf him in a wave of panic and indignity. No, he just could not take it.

"Ma'am, I..." he started, choking in the middle of his planned, half-baked excuse to go to the bathroom. The subsequent laughter followed. His cheeks turned beet red in embarrassment as memories of similar incidents flooded his mind. How he wished that the ground would suddenly open up and swallow him whole then and there, just to escape the mortifying scene that was sure to follow.

And then suddenly, his teacher smiled beatifically and encouragingly at Shigeru, discreetly shushing the rest of the class as she motioned for the boy to continue.

"Don't be shy, Shigeru-kun. It's a simple question."

The young lad gulped. His heart was still palpitating, but this time it was not out of panic. His cheeks were still flushed but it was not out of chagrin. He was feeling... something different.

He couldn't remember the question his teacher asked or the answer he gave for the life of him; but he would always remember her encouraging smile, her reddish hair, and her shining, emerald eyes.

"Very good, Shigeru-kun; that was a good answer."

'Shigeru-kun'? Not one person had ever called him that. He beamed upon hearing the warm and polite address. 'Shigeru-kun'; he liked the sound of that.

For Shigeru, such kindness was like an oasis amidst the dryness of his life. He more than welcomed the sweet, refreshing, and thirst-quenching praise this kind person offered him wholeheartedly, without any hesitation whatsoever. He didn't want to let go of the wonderful feeling he now had in his heart.

Shigeru looked at the name neatly written on the blackboard. What a wonderful name it was.

"Arigato, Minami-sensei!" he thanked, bowing low in reverence to his special star. Yumi Minami: What a wonderful name it was indeed.

* * *

'See how this star shines for you, child. See how it sparkles and twinkles for you. And it is now your own special star, a gift from the heavens themselves.

'Perhaps when people see you with this star, then they will know that you're also God's child and they will like you; love you.'

* * *

'They say that if you're able to make a thousand of these, it will become a symbol of undying affection. Well, only seven hundred and twenty-eight to go...'

Shigeru tucked several clumps of small paper cranes inside his pockets, whistling a merry tune as he made his way out of the room after another wondrous meeting in the Speech and Debate club.

How he loved the Speech and Debate club. Each meeting made his heart flutter because they gave him yet another opportunity to see the kind gentle, and caring club moderator, Yumi Minami.

Not that he didn't see her every other day anyway. She was also, after all, his teacher for Japanese Literature. He just couldn't explain it. Somehow, in the short span of just a few weeks in Meiou High, this heavenly angel had changed his life for the better, and in more ways than one, at that.

For one thing, he had now become a voracious reader and writer of both prose and poetry. He never realized that he had a natural knack for literature as a whole. It was like a dam that suddenly broke down, releasing a flood of creative thought. Many people never thought he had it in him.

But perhaps it wasn't really that much of a surprise. After all, it was painfully obvious who his muse really was. The unreachable ideal, the dancing fairy in glass, the Immaculate Goddess; Yumi Minami was Shigeru's endless inspiration.

And now, after many months of waiting, Shigeru Amano was about to give his very special star a token of his affection and appreciation. 'Just wait and see, Minami-sensei. I'll have those paper cranes ready before your birthday.'

Shigeru was no fool, though. He knew that any sort of intimate relationship between him and his teacher was laughable at best. But it didn't hurt that he really, really admired her, right? He still wanted his feelings to be known and, somehow through this hopefully mutual... understanding, they would grow as close as only two best friends could be.

Now if only he could only get over his damnable fear of rejection and humiliation...

Hours passed, and so did Shigeru's opportunities to reveal his true feelings to his beloved. Fear gripped him many times. For one thing, there was the fact that Minami was seemingly beginning to distance herself from him. He wasn't completely sure if it was just his own paranoia or an actuality. At times, he didn't want to know if it was true or not.

But it was really beginning to worry him.

Little things like her near-constant absences and her "being too busy" or "not at home" when he called at her house planted the seeds of doubt in his fragile little heart of glass. Then there was the fact that he didn't know how to go about 'courting' her since he didn't know a thing about courting women. But that was such a silly thought, since he wasn't really courting her. Was he?

Things were getting really, really complicated at the time. He did not know whether he was being too overwhelming with his affections or if he was being needlessly callous as he intentionally distanced himself from Minami from time to time whenever he felt that he had offended her somehow with his constant naggings.

Then there was the fact that he didn't want his classmates to know. He already felt pathetic enough as it was with his current situation, so he definitely did not need the reiteration of the fact from his supposed peers. So he couldn't possibly proclaim his love in front of the whole class, which unfortunately was where his beloved teacher usually was.

Things dragged on until the school dismissal and still nothing happened. He suffered immensely from complete and total uncertainty and self-doubt. He had fears of all forms haunting him to no end. He heard whispers and murmurs whenever he tried to approach Minami. Perhaps his classmates already knew about everything, and they were merely being secretive about it, so that he'd look like a bigger fool than he already was.

Then came dismissal time; his one last chance.

Paranoia filled his palpitating little heart as he struggled to approach his goddess standing from afar, in all her lonesome in the empty hallways of Meiou High.

Maybe he should have brought a present of her liking? He couldn't possibly show her the unfinished paper cranes. It was a surprise for her birthday. Perhaps chocolates would be a better present... or flowers of some sort? No, that would have given her the wrong impression. All he wanted was for them to be... closer. That wasn't a bad thing now, was it?

He went closer to Minami's vicinity, basking in her natural radiance and warmth. Courage did not fail him this time around as he saw the familiar, encouraging smile she wore during the first time he and she met-their 'special time'-during his first day in Meiou.

Unfortunately, he was about to find out that Minami's smile wasn't for him at all. It was never for him, and it could never be his. That smile was for another person altogether.

That man just a few yards away from the beauteous apparition, a man who wasn't much to look at in the first place, reflected Minami's-_his _ Minami's-smile.

From the very twinkle of their eyes to the ecstatic expressions on their faces, everything was reflected upon each other.

Shigeru desperately hid behind a tree, crumpling the paper cranes inside his pockets as he watched the two talk shyly and tentatively to each other.

The boy now felt so very embarrassed and so very mortified. But it was an altogether different kind of humiliation. He already knew about that man... somehow. He already knew that Minami has some sort of significant other. He already knew that it would come to this; that was why he kept on emphasizing his "the closest of friends" mantra at the back of his mind.

It shouldn't matter, should it? So what if his shining star already had a special someone of her own? All he ever wanted was for him to be somebody special to her as well. Was that too much to ask? Nothing had changed, hadn't it? After all, they could still be close friends despite all of this, right?

And then the couple discreetly, tentatively, yet undeniably kissed.

It was a brief, fluttery kiss; but it was such a grand gesture nonetheless.

Shigeru ran away, like always. It shouldn't hurt as much as it did now, should it?

He was just a fool; the biggest fool.

* * *

'Unfortunately, child, someone had already stolen that star from you, and it sparkles the same way to him as it does to you. The star was never your own, child. It shines for one and only one person, and you are not that person.

'Cry, child. Cry. How tragic this life is. Sometimes, poor child, that's all there is left to do: Cry.'

* * *

Shigeru walked through the halls of Meiou High, his eyes raw and red. He felt so ashamed for breaking down like that. He just couldn't help himself. That was always his excuse; he just couldn't help himself.

Empty. He felt so empty inside, and he didn't know what to do about it. Though school was already over, he still didn't feel like going home. His parents were already used to seeing their son come home late, even though Meiou was just a few blocks away from their residence. It was mostly due to his frequent talks with Minami, usually.

'No. No more. I don't want to think about that.'

That thought was mostly blocked from his numbed mind as he trudged on the empty, abandoned, and lonely hallways that reflected his present state of mind.

Empty. That was the present state of the classroom he currently occupied. Let the custodian come and shoo him away. He didn't care. He wallowed in his own lethargic, apathetic state in the darkness of the room. Everything was so quiet that he could hear himself breathe. Absolutely no one was there.

Now was the perfect opportunity for him to return to his old vice; his addiction.

He opened his leather bag and gingerly took out a small razor from his pencil case. How long had it been since his last time? He couldn't remember. He couldn't care less. His heavy heart palpitated to new life as he began to cut open his scarred wrist.

He afterwards threw the razor away in complete disgust. Not even the simple joy of self-mutilation sated his depression. It seemed that nothing ever will, not after the foolishness he went through for his precious Minami.

'No more! Please, no more! I don't want to think about that anymore!'

Perhaps a more permanent solution was in order? Maybe it would be best if he himself disappeared forever. "I am nothing. I am invisible," he whispered to himself over and over.

"Invisible? Nonsense, I can see you just fine!"

Shigeru let out a yelp of surprise as he wildly swung his head towards the origin of the mischievous statement. "W-What? Who's there?"

The person in front of him let out a hearty laugh. "I heard a noise in the hallway, and I had to check it out. I didn't know that there were still students inside the school campus during these hours. I'm truly sorry to have intruded with... whatever it was that you were doing."

Curiously enough, the person who said those words was none other than Shigeru's beloved teacher, Minami... sporting what appeared to be the designated male uniform.

He must have gone insane.

Not once in his life did he imagine his teacher to be a cross-dresser. Perhaps it was a wild fetish she and her boyfriend shared? He didn't want to know. No, this was silly. This was obviously a perverted hallucination of some sort that sprung from his extreme depression. Yes, that made perfect sense.

Perhaps addressing the strange vision would make it disappear somehow, he reckoned. "Um... Minami..." he started.

"Yes, that's my name," the weird Minami doppelganger said in what seemed to Shigeru as an low, effeminate voice. "Minamino Shuichi. It's a pleasure to meet you. How did you know my name? Have you heard of me before?"

From here the memories end; from here, the crystal clarity of the jagged glass shards of reality surfaced.

* * *

Shigeru smiled weakly in his reminiscence. Minamino... the puzzle, the enigma, the friend he never had; Meiou High's most infamous student. His red-haired upperclassman was the epitome of perfection; perfection that he himself wanted to achieve.

Even after the humorous and awkward meeting, Shigeru found Minamino to be one of the few people who could really understand him in the sense that they had a very similar mindset and outlook on life.

Shuichi Minamino was a person who second-guessed everything he did, just as Shigeru would. For example, Minamino had a tendency to give some of his admirers "false hope" under the pretense of "not being ready yet" or "just being friends" because he didn't want to be decisive in the sense that he might actually hurt somebody's feelings in the process. His indecisiveness may stretch for months, even years on end, all because he was just 'too nice.'

Shigeru could appreciate such indecisiveness. He himself possessed that sort of messianic complex, which was why he was always taken advantage of for most of his life.

But no one could take advantage of Minamino. Even though he was so nice, he was also very smart and very cool. He knew when to be assertive, and he always did things on principle, not just to show off and some such. He could be very stubborn, adamant, even intimidating at times. He knew when to stand up for himself, despite... or maybe because of... his loving and innocent nature.

Minamino was everything Shigeru wanted to become and more. Yet...

It was a silly loss, really; a very silly loss in the sense that Shigeru never really lost anything.

Minamino was a dear companion; so much so that people had begun to label him as 'Minamino's little admirer,' but Shigeru and Minamino were never truly close. Sure, the senior student was nice to the young lad, but he was also nice to everybody else in Meiou; even those who weren't from their school. He was nice to everybody, period.

This saintly person practically adored his mother, a single parent, and was openly amicable and charitable to everyone; everybody was his equal in his eyes.

Minamino's amiability made Shigeru feel special once and only once; during the time they first met in that empty classroom after the young boy 'lost' his supposed 'first love.' But ever since the fifteen year old noticed that it was not really a special kindness, he felt a great loss again.

But it was silly and trivial still.

Then there were Minamino's constant absences. It was hard to get close to someone who wasn't there most of the time.

But he was still one of Minamino's consistent acquaintances, right? It was very, very silly for him to demand a closer bond of friendship from Minamino, wasn't it? After all, friendship was not forced, it was given.

It was really silly indeed-almost as ridiculous as the loss of his grampa. He was so assured of having this special someone to always be there that he took him for granted until it was too late.

He was indeed a fool.

Shigeru unceremoniously climbed up the stairs leading to the roof deck in slow, heavy steps. Another memory was waiting for him beyond that closed door, but he let himself wallow in the memory of his foolishness first.

* * *

"What is it, Shigeru-kun?" Shigeru's 'sempai' said as the boy presented him his carefully crafted masterpiece. Minamino's beatific smile was always cheerful, open and friendly; just like his beloved teacher's smile.

"I wrote you a poem, Minamino-sempai!" the young lad cheered, his face beaming like the moon.

"What's it about, Shigeru-kun?" Minamino asked, seemingly intrigued and touched by the gesture. "It's certainly not my birthday, and there seems to be no particular special occasion today that comes to mind. What is this for?"

"Oh nothing. It isn't particularly about you. I just wanted to share... between friends..." the young boy disclosed shyly. "It's about... Just read it."

"Okay."

Minamino carefully unfolded the piece of paper, a curious expression on his face.

Shigeru really hoped that Minamino would like the poem. It was his labor of love, a poem which he gave great consideration in writing. He was careful with every stroke. After all, it wasn't just any poem.

The lad knew the lines from heart, and recited them in his mind in cadence with Minamino's mouthing of the words.

_It was numbing... as if from a dream  
You're suppose to feel something  
Yet deep inside you feel nothing  
It's all unsettling and confusing_

_It's as if you're from a distance  
As if you're protecting yourself  
From a world of pain and suffering  
Making the calm all the more unsettling_

_Through the daze, unbidden it comes  
Silly questions came... Ironic ones  
Silly because it's all so ridiculous  
Ironic because its silliness hurts_

_We cover up, one way or another  
A mask of courage over a vulnerable face  
A facade daunting over the grievance  
Tears run below this constructed mask_

_Or instead, you let yourself feel the pain...  
Of course it will come, sooner or later  
It's a wound, bleeding. Continuously.  
No word of comfort can appease it, once it's there. _

"Minamino-sempai? Was it that _bad_?" Shigeru queried disjointedly. With the weird and unreadable look on Minamino's face, he wasn't sure what was on the older boy's mind.

"It was... beautiful. I don't know what else to say about it. You're a gifted poet. Thank you for sharing that," Minamino praised, his beatific smile becoming more genuine, if that was possible.

"WA-I! SEMPAI!" Shigeru cheered. Minamino was always so nice. Then, for whatever reason, he turned to leave; but not without some parting words first.

"The poem, it was for my grampa. He just died a-and I didn't know what to do. I wrote it during my spare time. I know I could trust you with it, sempai."

Of course he could trust Minamino with it; Minamino was nice to everyone, after all.

In retrospect, it would seem that it wasn't just his grandfather who was a silly loss.

It was really, really silly of him, the biggest fool, to think that Minamino was his friend. He was such a fool indeed to look up to someone who didn't even give a damn about him and his personal affairs. It was foolish of him to think that he was friends with this metaphor, this archetype; this unreachable ideal that he was never close with in the first place. That was what Minamino was to Shigeru: not a person, but just the idealistic concept of one.

Shigeru always felt that even though he knew of Minamino, he could never really know the true Minamino, as if _that_ concept was far beyond the grasp of his mind. He was but a mere outsider in Minamino's World.

He always did lose things he never really had.

* * *

Kurama's eyes widened. For a change, it was not out of shock and confusion, but instead of realization.

'Those dreams! Those dreams belong to Shigeru-kun!' Kurama assessed just as he paid for his train ticket to Shimizu.

"Hey, Mister! Where are you going? You forgot your ticket and change!"

Kurama didn't even hear the cry of the ticket lady as he quickly exited the train station with only one thought in mind.

'I have to get back to Meiou. Shigeru's life might be in danger!'

* * *

He had one last memory; one last reminiscence before his own bereavement. A name, an address, a recollection and a dream: These were acceptable as his final thoughts after all.

Shigeru Amano, for no rhyme or reason, smiled sadly at the dancing flakes up in the sky before he looked down at the pavement below from his vantage point of six stories high up Meiou's Science and Technology building.

With a tear in his eye, he called out...

* * *

_How come I do not have a name?_

"Why must you have a name? You don't fit in this world. You don't fit in my dreams!"

_We are both dreamers, you and me. It's from nothingness that we flee to the realm of endless fantasy._

"I don't understand at all. Your thoughts make no sense. Leave me be. Let me fade in misery."

_Fade into me. I can only see you when you fade. Find yourself in me just as I found myself in you. What is your name?_

"I have no name. I am nothing. I am invisible."

_What is my name?_

"You are nameless. You are nothing to me."

_We are nothing. Let us peer into each other's nothingness._

"Why?"

_To find yourself._

"Why?"

_To find myself. _

"Why?"

_So that I could have a name._

* * *

"Yumiko-sempai is called the girl of dreams, and Chiho-sempai is called the Ice Queen. Even Minamino-sempai is called the boy of reflection. Can't I have my own codename, Invisible Girl-san?"

Midori ruffled the young boy's hair fondly. "To me, you'll always be..."

* * *

"SHINKO-CHAN! MY NAME IS SHINKO-CHAN!" Shigeru screamed at the top of his lungs moments before he stepped off the ledge that lead towards the grim and unforgiving snow-filled pavement below.

* * *

_My soul is bleeding.  
But do I have a soul?  
Do I have a conscience?  
Am I where you are?  
Am I already gone?  
I feel I'm dead.  
But is it true?  
Can you bring me back?  
Can anyone?  
Is it too late?_

_Someone tell me..._

_Is it too late?_

_Let me now become winter._

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Kurama's will, Shuichi's wish.

Okay, credits time. I quoted several lines from Richard Corben's "Child" (particularly, "Childhood's End") during the grandpa flashback scenes, while Shigeru's poems represents every last Goth poem ever. :P

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel

* * *

_And now, another peek at Shigeru's hopes and dreams..._

_Shigeru was almost beside himself with joy. He couldn't believe it; his day just kept getting better and better. This was the greatest day of his entire life, bar none. "Okasaan! Otousan! What are you doing here? I thought you still had... work to do."_

_Shigeru's mother hugged her disbelieving child tight and peppered him with dozens of butterfly kisses. "Oh, Shinko-chan! We're so sorry that we've neglected you for long! I swear that we'll make it up to you from now on," she said in between her eyelash smooches._

_"I find it very ironic that I've been conducting seminars to overly busy salary men and office ladies on the dangers of latchkey children and hikkomori, only to find out that my son is suffering from both conditions," Shigeru's father, a noted psychologist, sheepishly admitted. "I'm really, really sorry about that, son. I swear, things will be different from now on."_

_With purest tears of joy he could muster, Shigeru enthusiastically pledged, "It's okay! It's all water under the bridge, otousan! After all the blessings I've gotten so far, it's perfectly fine! I'm just... so happy right now, to have all of you here-!"_

_Suddenly, before Shigeru could even fathom what had happened, a powerful earthquake erupted from beneath the five of them and shook the entirety of Meiou's Science and Technology building, making the structure sway and dance in a decisively dangerous manner. To the young boy's horror, he soon witnessed both his grandfather and Miss Minami lose their footing and fly off to their deaths many stories below as the roof toppled into unspeakable chaos. _

_Then, just as the tremors reached their fever pitch-the tower collapsing upon itself is a frightening shower of plaster, tiles, concrete, and debris-Shigeru's parents grabbed hold of their son with the desperate intention of shielding him from the ensuing wreckage with their own bodies, hoping against hope that their sacrifice would not be for naught. Thanks to double-edged miracles and much to Shigeru's eventual dismay, it indeed wasn't._

_In the midst of all the inconceivable, seemingly wanton devastation, Shigeru was the lone, unwilling survivor. After hours of denial, he eventually worked up the courage to listlessly walk around the world of rubble and broken dreams, his repulsion growing upon every step. _

_"Why?" Shigeru mourned as he moved aside the crushed and unrecognizable remains of his parents' bodies._

_"Why?" Shigeru howled as he took hold of his grandfather's severed head around his arms like a wrinkled melon._

_"WHY!" Shigeru wailed as he gently extricated the dainty, dismembered hand of Yumi Minami._

_"Why must I get everything that I'd ever wanted in life in one shining moment, only to have it snatched away from me at the last second? Oh Kami-sama, Buddha, Christ, Allah, or whoever, what was the point of all this? Why? Godammit, why...?" _

_From there, Shigeru... or rather, Shigeru's innocence... curled into a fetal ball and finally broke down into an unintelligible, irreparable mess. If there really was a fate worse than death, then this would be it._


	15. Chapter 14: Maturity

The first day of winter; it heralded many things for many people, but for some it was mainly the beginning of the end. It was the first day of the last season of the last month of the year. In short, it was the harbinger of the beginning of a fresh start, of a new season, and of a new year.

How very wholesome and inspiring.

Such flowery words they were, holding so many symbolic meanings and interpretations with all their indistinct ambiguity, yet they were also literal words that contained sharp facts and straightforward clues; painfully obvious clues.

Winter wasn't the herald of a new life; it was, instead, the immaculate symbol of death.

Kurama's glazed eyes cried salty tears that glistened in the blurry onset of twilight. When was the last time he literally broke down and cried like this? He never shed tears for Kuronue's death, though he constantly felt regret over his partner's demise. Nor did he cry for his mother when she contracted some sort of human illness, preferring action over mourning as he stole the Spirit World's enchanted Mirror of Forlorn Hope so as to somehow cure his mother of her dreadful, indistinct disease.

The youko turned human wept solely for one reason. It was neither for an unavoidable regret nor for the suffering of a loved one. He wept mainly for a meaningless loss and the senseless squandering of something so very precious.

Kurama gently cradled Shigeru Amano's limp and lifeless body, droplets of warmth falling on the younger man's icy cheeks. He had arrived too late; Shigeru had already jumped out of the multistory building before he had the change to employ any of his special miracle herbs to save the young lad.

"So you do not cry in mourning or regret. Instead you cry in pity? How cruel indeed. Perhaps you really are more like your youko self than your supposed human self despite what your recent epiphany had shown."

Kurama easily recognized that voice. It was deader and more cadaverous than the remains of his young friend. He shook his head as if to clear it of such morbid thoughts, turning towards the cloaked and armor-clad figure behind him.

"Munashii. Or should I say Tetsuma Yoshitaka? It's been a long time since we last met. So this is your corporeal form." The half-youko's voice was neither conversational nor accusing. It was cool and composed, though his evergreen eyes did betray the curious mixture of guilty commiseration and abhorrence. "Were you the one responsible for all of this?"

The non-entity stared at the red-haired boy passively. "In response to your query, allow me to repeat what I've said to your koorime friend a while back. This is no puppet show of mine."

"Is this another one of your mind games, Munashii? Well, I'm sick and tired of it!" Kurama practically seethed in a rare display of anger. He exhaled deeply as he willed himself to deflate his own rage. "Enough of this. This has gone too far. Kill me. Absorb my soul. Strip me of my sense of self and identity. You've won. End it now."

Munashii neither maniacally grinned nor sarcastically sneered. He reacted the way he usually reacted-the way he was supposed to react-which meant that he didn't react at all. "You tell me such things as if I had a choice in the matter. I do not. A choice can only be made by someone who has his own will and resolve. I posses neither of those two characteristics."

Kurama slammed his fist on the frigid pavement. "Don't tell me such things! Are you insinuating that everything you've been doing from the start was completely purposeless and pointless? All those months of my living in the dreams of others... fantasies that made me question my sanity, my sexuality, even my very own identity as a person... was for nothing? Take responsibility for your actions! You should be accountable for what you did to Shigeru-kun!" Kurama demanded, though his tone of voice became near pleading at the end of his statement.

Munashii expressionlessly stared back at the half-youko as he humorlessly responded, "I'm not the one responsible for the boy's suicide. It was his own decision to take his life; that is why it's called a suicide."

"Don't mock me!" Kurama reflexively exclaimed. This was a newly formed habit of his, partly due to his recent strenuous conversations with his alter ego way back in autumn. "Give me a straight answer, dammit! What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

"I also do not posses the ability to mock," Munashii deadpanned. "I wasn't the one who gave the boy the fatal concussion that ultimately took away his life. I did not force him to jump from the roof of a six-story building, nor did I subtly influence his decision in doing so. The boy jumped to commit suicide. This was neither an accident nor murder. That is the truth."

"No... NO! That's not true! You manipulated Shigeru-kun in the same way that you've manipulated me and Kuwabara-kun! Enough of your lies!" Kurama desperately reasoned as he clutched the boy's shoulders in misery.

"Denial is mostly a human reflex. But of course, you've chosen to live as one, kitsune," Munashii reckoned morosely.

Kurama closed his eyes as he shuddered. Munashii's grim, bleak voice seemed to turn reproachful near the end of his avowal.

"Or is it because you'd rather have someone else to blame, because you were neither quick enough to understand the blatant clues from your most recent psychic dreams nor fast enough to come to this grim realization? You had all the means to save him-perhaps you were his only salvation-yet you failed him, just as you had failed Kuronue."

Kurama slowly opened his eyes again as he heard the accusation; if he truly heard it in the literal sense. He wasn't completely sure if what he heard was Munashii's words or perhaps his own guilt-ridden words spurred by his conscience. Perhaps it was Youko Kurama manifesting himself yet again, mocking his human counterpart through their shared subconscious. He just wasn't sure.

"What now, kitsune?" That was Munashii's usual byline to Kurama. The half-youko was used to it by now.

The red-haired young man looked down at Shigeru's body pensively, gradually adopting a subdued mood. He now knew the reason behind his sadness-the cause for his present grief and tears over his young friend's demise. He cried for the futility of it all.

Silence, not words, haunted the debased half-youko.

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

This chapter can be alternately titled as 'Revelations.' Oh, and Chuuku's back, if you hadn't noticed.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Maturity**

* * *

Darkness. This was what greeted him as he came to. It made no difference whether or not he was still unconscious. Nevertheless, it brought him a certain sense of relief to be in the dark. It was comforting to him. Nearly all his life, he was blanketed in one sort of darkness or another; as such, whether it was a mental, physical, or spiritual darkness, he was never afraid of it. On the contrary, he felt rather accustomed to it.

Darkness. To some it was a symbol of fear, of coldness, and of death. But to him it was a welcome sight. Was he not a former resident of the Demon World, which was always filled with veritable darkness? And, as accompaniment to this darkness, were there not also fear, coldness, and death? The darkness represented his way of life. He wasn't just used to it, he enjoyed it.

He was intimately familiar with fear, whether it was in the eyes of an opponent faced with imminent death by his hand or his own fear of some great power finally destroying him in the end. Sensui's great power may have intimidated him way back during their momentous confrontation, but that was one of the few times he'd ever let fear take hold of his heart; and when it did seize him, he pushed its paralyzing effects aside and used it to instead fuel his indefatigable determination to win.

Nonetheless, he always had a certain degree of respect for power. He was a firm believer of the rule, 'survival of the fittest.' Outside of that, he had nothing else to fear. He brought fear into the hearts of his enemies, not the other way around.

Coldness. It was a relative term to him. He was used to it. Perhaps it was because of his koorime lineage, but at times he drew comfort from the cold the way humans drew comfort from warmth. Whatever. He felt as he felt, it held no importance to him.

A flash of a blue-haired koorime's face appeared at the back of his mind, making him idly wonder if she also drew comfort from the cold the same way he did. But he just as quickly pushed the trivial notion aside. For a change, a not-so-comforting feeling of warmth began to spread across his face, keeping the comforting coldness around him at bay as he went beet red, much to his chagrin.

Death. A loaded word to many, but to him it simply meant the end. He was never afraid of the finality death brought; he actually looked forward to it, truth be told. He was glad by the fact that he was given a reason for being since the time of his birth. An image of an ice maiden that was the last thing he saw before he was inexplicably thrown into a chasm in his infancy, as well as images of his... of Yukina... filled his groggy mind.

These were all his reasons for being. Death had always been a constant threat to him since the time of his banishment from the Land of the Koorime, yet he had always done with it like a game with his opponents. He could never die, not him. Not even death could stop him from what he had to accomplish. But if there came a time when all ends were tied, he would welcome death like an old friend; in a warrior's death, no less. But until then...

The last vestiges of sleep altogether left Hiei as he felt the nearby presence... or rather, the lack thereof... of Munashii, the Harbinger of Death. He afterwards did something that was a rarity for him to do.

He smiled.

'Hello, old friend. It's been a while.'

* * *

"What now, kitsune?"

Kurama looked up at Munashii with glints of determination in his eyes.

"What is your answer? After everything you've been through, after the endless questions you've posed yourself, did you finally find your answer?" Munashii asked.

Kurama nodded. "I have. I now understand who Minamino Shuichi is... and he isn't just 'me.' He is beyond me as he is a part of me. He is far more than just another persona. He is everybody's Minamino Shuichi. He is Meiou High's Shuichi. He is my mother's Minamino Shuichi. He is the Legion's Shuichi. He is Chiho-san and Yumiko-san's Shuichi. He is Midori-san's Shuichi. He is Maya-san's Shuichi." The red-haired boy took a deep breath. "He is Shigeru-kun's Shuichi."

Kurama's grass-green eyes stared straight into Munashii's glassy ones. "He's also your Shuichi." The youko sighed once again as he recalled the epiphany he just had. "I... or rather, Minamino Shuichi... cannot die. His life isn't his own anymore. His numerous reflections have shown me that his life is now owned by friends and family. People that he cares-that _I_ care about. If he goes, then all these people will be affected as well. I cannot afford that. I'm not just fighting for his survival. I'm fighting for everybody's happiness."

"So is that your true answer, kitsune?" Munashii asked. "Or are you just babbling nonsense again?"

"I'd thought that Minamino Shuichi didn't really exist; that he was just a mask I wore. I only 'pretended' to be him. But that wasn't the case at all. He does exist." Kurama stood up, easily lifting Shigeru's cold body as he turned and walked away from the undead one. "I was even willing to sacrifice my youko identity just to preserve this 'Shuichi' persona of mine because that was the life I chose to lead: a normal, human one. You'd go through heaven and hell just to get his soul? Well, I'll go through heaven and hell just to protect him. That is my answer."

"So that is your wish? That is your... will?"

Kurama didn't even turn as he replied, "Yes. I don't care for your little tricks and schemes, or for the identity of your true puppet master." He stopped in mid-step as he gazed sullenly at Shigeru.

"What I want, what I really want, is to find a way for people to stop suffering on my account. If only I got here in time. If only... if only..." he whispered silently.

Kurama felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Munashii, what...?" he queried, puzzled as he looked over his shoulder.

"I will grant you your wish."

* * *

Hiei, though disturbed by the thought, replayed the events of the fateful night. He entered the fox's room through the window, like he had always before. Then he saw a disheveled and confused Kurama enter the room. The fox was entitled to do so-it was _his_ room, after all-but the jaganshi should have taken the kitsune's tousled and 'unbalanced' state as an indication of something amiss, in retrospect.

But noooo, he just had to hang around in Kurama's room just to get...

'...'

Hiei reflexively wiped his mouth before he even realized it. He afterwards shook his head as if to clear it.

The jaganshi grimaced in irritation. This wasn't the time to brood over such... insignificant details.

Hiei wasn't very particular with details. The fire demon was a person who always saw the big picture. For the most part, he left all the needless contemplation to Kurama. Yet somehow, it seemed that the redhead was second-guessing even more than usual.

He should have known that the undead one... Munashii... was behind all this.

'Munashii has been playing with Kurama's mind all this time. The infamous puppet master was now at the mercy of a puppet. How ironic.' Hiei harrumphed. It made a bit of sense, really, how the nonentity seemed to keep on risking everything and still have his gamble pay off. It was all due to the 'bond' he established with the kitsune during their previous altercation in the old woman's dojo.

Before, there was something about Munashii that kept making the fire demon feel disconcerted. The bleakness of his demeanor, the dismal stare, and the monotone of his voice were all irrelevant. It was the utter lack of sense about him that irked the jaganshi to no end. Yet despite that-or rather, because of it-Hiei wanted all the more to fight him.

Everything finally made sense. The story of Yoshitaka Tetsuma, the... _ thing_ that happened to Kurama and him, and the reemergence of Munashii at this point in time all fit in the fire demon's mind with a resounding click.

Soon, it would be time for the end game.

Hiei felt something cold hit the nape of his neck. Another one... Repetitiously. 'Humph. Sleet. How typical.'

The jaganshi whisked through the treetops towards his destination, his search for something that was not supposed to exist nearly at its end.

* * *

Before Kurama could protest, Munashii had already telekinetically lifted Shigeru's body away from the kitsune.

"Munashii...? What do you think you're doing?"

Munashii unceremoniously ripped apart his breastplate, revealing his deadly black hole of nothingness.

A familiar feeling of warmth enveloped Munashii. The undead being felt a kind of peace that was indescribable to him-comparable to nothing. It was just beyond him, the high he got was almost so soothing; so scrumptious.

But the being wasn't doing it for sake of enjoyment.

Kurama stifled a gasp as he witnessed the unbelievable.

The white blanket on the pavement seemed to turn into a deathly shade of gray as the leafless trees that surrounded them began to rot. Kurama himself felt a little tired as Munashii continued his ministrations, but he seemed more shocked than weary as soon he realized what the soulless one was doing.

'Could it be...?' the kitsune asked to no one in particular. 'But why would he do that? It doesn't make sense!' "Why are you doing this? Why are you... reviving Shigeru-kun?"

Munashii merely shushed the youko with a wave of his hand as he replied, "Your will be done."

'What? My will...?'

He spread the life force all over the young boy's body. He noticed that the bloodstained cadaver's freshest source of blood came from his head. After all, as he'd earlier diagnosed, the cause of the boy's death had been a fatal concussion. Thusly, he concentrated the precious ki he gathered towards the aforementioned area and felt it surge from his fingertips to the boy's body.

Slowly, steadily, Munashii felt a warm feeling on his bare hands. It was Shigeru's revitalized breath.

The little boy's breathing soon became fast and rapid, almost panicky, as the color returned in his face. But after a while the panic faded into calmness.

Munashii cradled Shigeru's floating body gently, smoothly stroking the boy's auburn hair, just like the way a mother would a newborn; which was kind of how this situation was, in a sense.

Kurama soon found himself asking questions that he'd been asking since this whole dilemma with the nonentity had started. "Why? Why, Munashii, why?"

"We should return the boy to his parents," Munashii brusquely interjected as ignored Kurama's demand for answers, leaving the kitsune all the more baffled.

'What's going on?'

* * *

A familiar feeling of warmth enveloped Yoshitaka and the corpse. He felt a kind of peace that was indescribable to him-comparable to nothing. It was just beyond him. The high he got was almost so comforting; so delicious.

He metaphorically slapped himself for losing concentration. This was for the girl's sake, of course.

He spread the life force all over the young lady's body. He noticed that the bloodstained kimono's freshest source of blood came from her upper body. The cause of the girl's death had been repeated stabs on the chest. He concentrated the precious life source he had gathered towards the bloody area and felt it surge from his fingertips to the girl's body.

Slowly, steadily, a warm sensation started to tickle his neck. Was it... breathing? It became fast and rapid, almost panicky, as the color returned in the young girl's face, his 'patient' soon regaining full consciousness.

As soon as her soft green eyes stared into his pale violet ones, she became calm. Her panic was no more. He cradled her gently, smoothly stroking her now inexplicably fiery red hair just like the way a mother would cradle a newborn, which was kind of how this situation was, in a sense.

Rebirth. Rejoice. A whole plethora of various emotions tickled into Yoshitaka's emphatic body, seemingly seeping into him as though he were sensitive enough to feel what other people felt, whether pain or pleasure. Still, it was merely an outside sensation-a third-person awareness-he merely took note of. It couldn't possibly compare to holding a life force in his own hands; a spirit with its own consciousness, its own being. He dismissed the rest of his chain of thought as he returned the resurrected young girl to her ecstatic family.

He was exhausted yet happy, although he was also filled with a cluster of other emotions he knew was not his own. He merely shook his head in pity as he sympathized with the rest of the unfortunate ones. Oh, how he wished that he could resurrect all those who had died in the battle, but Lord Enma was a cruel god. Not evil, yes; yet very, very cruel. He turned his back at the jubilant folk. His job here was done.

He subsequently felt an intense sense of gratitude, which was a natural phenomenon, since he had just done one of his 'Great Miracles.' Yet the intensity it held beckoned him to turn around, even before hearing the words spoken with equal intensity of the feeling that enveloped him.

"Wait!"

He saw the young girl's eyes staring back at him with such vibrant life that made him cringe at the thought of its fire ever being snuffed out. He didn't quite understand what made him go forward, what made him tilt his head in such a way as to gesture the girl to speak.

"Thank you very much," the girl expressed her sincere gratitude, bowing. As she straightened herself, she gave Yoshitaka a shy smile. The blush on her cheeks was apparent, but he set aside the thought as his own imagination. After all, his judgment was now tainted by a wide range of emotions boiling all around him.

He shivered; he didn't know if it was caused by the panic of the families of the slain or his own anxiety. "May I please know your name, sir?"

Yoshitaka Tetsuma didn't quite notice the mother pulling the girl away from him and scolding her for her brashness while the elder herself apologized profusely to him, nor did he notice the words that spewed forth from his mouth as he himself spoke to respond to the girl's question. But he forever etched into his consciousness the next few words the timid girl told him afterwards:

"I'm Asuka. Matsui Asuka. I hope to see you again soon."

* * *

Munashii stared at Kurama listlessly while the kitsune climbed down the two-story Amano residence with the stealth of a ghost. The red-haired boy warily eyed the broken soul, the prodigy, his enemy, and Shigeru Amano's savior before he flipped over the padlocked gates.

"Shigeru-kun should be fine. This isn't the first time he went home late from school, since his parents aren't home most of the time anyway." Kurama's features turned pensive as his gaze lingered at the glass pane window of Shigeru's room. "He really was lonely. All he wanted was a friend. I... don't know how he'll be able to deal with what happened to him today."

"It was the boy's choice to make," Munashii simply observed as he began trudging away from the residence towards an unknown destination. Kurama followed him shortly after.

"But we may have only delayed the inevitable! What if he decides to commit suicide again?" Kurama reasoned.

"It is still the boy's choice to make," Munashii reiterated.

"Of course," Kurama relented. Afterwards, he softly whispered, "Thank you for bringing Shigeru-kun back, though."

There was silence as the pair marched onward.

A sporadic diatribe soon ensued in the course of the short trip.

"Was saving him your choice to make?"

"No. I cannot make choices for myself."

"Then why'd you do it? Who made that choice for you, Munashii?"

"My master."

"And who is your master?"

"Asuka is my master."

"Asuka? You mean Matsui Asuka?"

"We're here."

Munashii suddenly stopped. They had reached their destination. It was a park full of leaf-bare trees that were blanketed by white mantles of snow. Kurama recognized it as the same park where, underneath, the gates to the Demon World were once opened by Shinobu Sensui and his cohorts.

"What happened to Matsui Asuka all those years ago, Munashii? What did you do to her that drove you to destroy your own soul? What do I have to do with all of this?" Kurama insistently queried, unwilling to let the matter drop.

"You already know the answer to that, kitsune," Munashii sullenly pledged. "You have already made your decision sixteen years ago. What you want is what I want. Your will be done."

Kurama looked thunderstruck as he silently mouthed, "Sixteen years ago...?"

Amidst Kurama's astonishment, the shadow man abruptly unfastened and removed his breastplate, revealing his dark vortex of oblivion.

The half-youko could only gaze, dumbstruck, as the black hole of nothingness threatened to engulf his very soul. Subsequently, he heard a maniacal shout from behind the trees.

"Puppet! FACE ME!" a quickly charging Hiei determinedly hollered as he brandished his deadly katana.

Within a split second, everything became clear to Kurama.

* * *

"Lord Koenma! LORD KOENMA! Our sources have told me that Munashii has finally revealed himself!" Jorge excitedly said as he pointed wildly at the blank screen on the wall facing the Spirit World Prince. "Turn on the Spirit World Monitor and see for yourself! Munashii is fighting Hiei right this very minute!" Hearing no response from his beloved leader, Jorge inquired, "Is there something wrong, Lord Koenma?"

Koenma, Lord Prince of the Dead, second most powerful being in the Spirit World, clutched an oversized, leather-bound book in helpless frustration. 'Impossible. Does it mean that all this time...?' To Jorge, he commanded, "Summon Botan right away. I have some important matters to discuss with her."

"Y-Yes sir! Of course, sir! Right away, sir!"

Koenma narrowed his eyes as the blue-skinned ogre left. 'The day Tetsuma Yoshitaka accidentally destroyed Matsui Asuka's soul, he violated a strict ordinance of the Spirit World.' The toddler-like deity rubbed his temples contemplatively. 'It eventually led to the present events we're experiencing now. But I never thought that Kurama would actually be...!'

The tot gingerly opened and leafed through the pages of the Book of Fate. His eyes alighted upon one particular name written there. 'I understand everything now. We have found the true culprit.'

* * *

Hiei whisked through the trees faster than the speed of thought, intending to decapitate Munashii with one powerful and deadly strike.

"It all makes sense now," the jaganshi heard someone whisper, but he paid it no heed. The only thing that mattered to him now was his prey.

Consequently, all three of his eyes widened in shock as he saw the unexpected...

"Tsukeyaki Blade!"

...Kurama protecting Munashii.

Hiei was barely able to evade the demonic sword made of a single blade of mutated grass. He stared at Kurama in open disbelief as the kitsune continued his assault with an unhesitant thrust. The jaganshi's sword clanged hard on the surprisingly tough grass sword.

"What the hell are you trying to do? Have you completely lost your mind?" Hiei demanded. "Get out of the way, fox. I have a score to settle with the shadow man." He harrumphed.

Kurama surprised Hiei further with his passionate shout of, "No! I won't let you ruin my plans! I've already reached this point and there's no turning back!"

"You're spewing out nonsense. Move," Hiei gravely ordered as he batted the half-youko's grass sword away and rapidly hurtled himself towards his true nemesis, the undead Munashii.

Or he would have hurtled himself towards his true nemesis had Kurama not stabbed his side using his own momentum against him. Hiei went down on his knees in anguish as he firmly clutched his side. "Kurama... Why? Why are you protecting him!"

"You weren't listening. I told you: I won't let you ruin my plans."

The jaganshi growled as he shot Kurama a dirty look. "Explain."

"Matsui Asuka... I'll do anything for her!" Kurama declared defiantly. "I'd go through heaven and hell for her! I'd die if I have to!"

Why was the kitsune talking like the half-man? "What are you saying, fox?"

"What Munashii wants is what I want as well."

No. This must be some sort of trick. "You! Shadow man! You've brainwashed the kitsune the same way you've brainwashed the stupid human!" It made sense. Munashii was manipulating Kurama's mind, making the fox delusional. What the entity wanted was Kurama's soul. The kitsune wouldn't seriously give away his soul now, would he? Not after what he had been through.

"No, Hiei. Do not blame the puppet for what it has done. Munashii is merely dancing to the tune I'm playing. He says that he wants Minamino Shuichi... and so do I. He says that he's in love with Minamino Shuichi... and so am I."

"More nonsense," the fire demon assessed.

"I planned everything from the start," Kurama persisted, ignoring Hiei's assessment. "Munashii is incapable of orchestrating this elaborate a scheme. The battle at Genkai's dojo; my clairvoyant dreams; Kuwabara's possession; my confrontation with Youko Kurama himself; those all went according to plan. 'Munashii' himself was used for the sole purpose of preventing any of you Reikai Tantei from foiling my plans."

"Nothing you say makes sense!" Hiei yelled.

"Well, it all makes sense to me now. I finally understand who Minamino Shuichi is. Minamino Shuichi is actually-"

* * *

"You're not serious!" Yusuke exclaimed as he struggled not to fall off Botan's wooden, flying oar while trying to keep up with the ferry-girl's excited pace. "And why the hell are we on a hurry? To think, I was about to enjoy the first day of winter break, and here you are with another one of the Spirit World's dumbass missions."

"First off, I'm completely serious!" Botan replied as she flew against the cold, unforgiving wind. A feeling of consternation began to engulf her viscerally, but she ignored it. "Secondly, we _have_ to get to the park as soon as we can. Munashii's back, and he's with Hiei and Kurama right this very minute."

"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Let's get going! It's been forever since I last fought the ghost man!" Yusuke enthused.

"Hai, hai... Reikai Tantei-san," Botan deferentially stated as she weaved past a couple of buildings in haste and unsaid panic. "Actually, the thing with Minamino Shuichi came as a shock to all of us. After searching for any information regarding Tetsuma Yoshitaka in hundreds of tomes, scrolls and files, Lord Koenma discovered that the answer had been right under our noses all this time."

Yusuke rolled his eyes. "Typical. So how'd you _finally_ find out?"

"Hey! It was classified information and we didn't know the exact kanji for her name! We only found out that she existed through Genkai-baasan's little 'word of mouth' legend! Heck, we didn't even know she existed until now!" Botan defensively protested. She sighed as she added, "Who would have known that out of all the reference materials in the Great Ancient Library, we'd find her name in the Book of Fate?"

"The Book of Fate?" Yusuke repeated, slightly peeved. "You mean the same book that told us that the kid I saved from way back was _fated_ to survive from the car accident, even without my help?"

"Yup! The very same! Every Spirit World Guide has a copy of it! It's standard issue!" Botan cheerfully confirmed, a smile plastered on her face. 'Oh, why do I feel so panicky?'

The sleek-haired young man still felt annoyed with the fact that the young boy he saved from being hit by a car-at the cost of his life-didn't really need saving because, according to the oh-so-great Book of Fate, the toddler would still survive the car crash with minor injuries because the ball he was playing with absorbed all the impact.

So basically Yusuke had died for nothing. Or perhaps not, considering that because of the incident, he eventually became a Spirit World Detective and all.

But of course he was still bitter. "So what did the stupid-ass Book of Fate say?"

"That the girl Tetsuma Yoshitaka saved hundreds of years ago was supposed to be reincarnated as the daughter of Minamino Shiori sixteen years ago. In so saying..."

* * *

"Minamino Shuichi is actually Matsui Asuka?" Hiei repeated numbly, not realizing the gravity of the words he spoke. He tried to remember where he heard the vaguely familiar name of Asuka Matsui.

"She was _supposed_ to be Minamino Shuichi, actually," Kurama dismally corrected, gazing at Munashii sadly. "An accident occurred during Asuka-san's last day on earth... an accident that not only took her life, but her soul as well. In Tetsuma Yoshitaka-kun's despair, he did unto himself what he accidentally did to Asuka-san."

Yoshitaka Tetsuma had shattered his own soul. It was mostly unsaid, but everyone knew that was what Kurama meant.

"It's unfortunate, really. If I hadn't possessed Minamino Shuichi's body from the moment of her conception, she would have been stillborn; soulless," Kurama continued, adding, "But I still wasn't supposed to. I stole her identity, like a thief in the night. But of course, that is what I essentially am."

"So what do you have to do with an undead girl and her lover?" Hiei derisively and irreverently questioned. "Leave her be and stop this foolishness, Kurama."

"I cannot, Hiei. I have fallen in love with her the same way Yoshitaka-kun had hundreds of years ago. I have loved her ever since I first possessed her soulless body."

"W-What?" was all Hiei could reply, disgust and confusion etched on his face. Was the former youko into necrophilia all this time?

"A shadow of her soul continues to exist in the same way Munashii's does, and it lives in this body the same way my youko soul does. I cannot explain how, but her shattered sense of self has slowly permeated into mine. Her selflessness, her kindness, her compassion; everything about her personality I've slowly emulated, creating this persona known as Minamino Shuichi."

Hearing, or rather _not_ hearing his jaganshi friend's lack of a response, Kurama stated, "I now have an opportunity to right my wrong. Asuka-san was fated to become Minamino Shuichi, and now Minamino Shuichi she will become. With Yoshitaka-kun's help, a miracle will happen tonight."

"Don't be absurd! You say that you've been planning this from the start yet you've realized all of this just now? Wake up, Kurama! Don't let Munashii take over your mind!"

"Youko Kurama was to blame for that. He didn't want my sort of resolution. He didn't want to fade away. He didn't want change. He blocked all memory of my plans to resurrect the true Minamino Shuichi. And it would have worked, if Munashii hadn't come. The shadow man moved according to the will of my subconscious and helped me remember what I really wanted from the very beginning."

"And what the hell do you really want?" Hiei managed to hiss.

"I want to sacrifice my life for Asuka-san the same way she sacrificed her life for Yoshitaka-kun. I will offer my youko soul and have it transformed into her soul. From merely emulating her, I will now become her," Kurama avowed with a determined glint in his eyes. "This is the best scenario for me. I will sacrifice my life for the ultimate death scene, one that's even better than a star's death."

* * *

Yusuke felt it. Or rather, he didn't. "Let's stop here, Botan."

"Hmmm? But we still have a long way to go before we reach the park," Botan noted as she quelled the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

"We won't be able to reach the park from here," Yusuke tersely explained as he pointed at their bleak surroundings. "Not at this point."

"But we're in a cemetery, Yusuke!" Botan protested as she felt her skin crawl.

"I know. And he's also here."

Botan felt her heart get caught in her throat after hearing what her companion said. "W-Who's...?"

"Get away from here, Botan. Far away," Yusuke managed to whisper before he abruptly jumped from the flying oar towards one of the concrete tombstones twenty feet below.

"Yusuke, what in the world are you...?" Botan trailed off as she saw the unanticipated.

All of a sudden, the silhouette of a man appeared from the dark shadows behind the many rows of graves.

'I-Impossible! How can he be here if he's with Kurama and Hiei? He can't be in two places at the same time!' Botan deliberated disbelievingly, her panic rising to new heights. She was unwilling to leave Yusuke, yet she knew that she would be more of a hindrance than actual help to the spirit detective if she stayed.

"Yusuke, don't you dare die on me! If you do, I'll ferry your soul straight to hell!" Botan shouted as she departed from the graveyard.

Yusuke chuckled at Botan's unique 'farewell' before stepping down from the sepulcher. He was later greeted with a monotonous, "It's been forever, Urameshi Yusuke."

Yusuke grinned as he addressed the man's presence. "I figured you of all people would hang out here... Munashii."

* * *

Hiei merely looked at Kurama for all of three seconds before replying, "If what you say is true, then you're a bigger fool than I thought." Harrumphing, he added, "I have an even better scenario for you... an even better death scene. Let's have death match. Your life is mine and my life is yours."

"A death match?" Kurama disdainfully reiterated with half-lidded eyes. "Then you're no better than Youko Kurama and his star's death."

"A star's death? I know of no such thing," Hiei stated grimly. "What I do know is that I'm giving you the honor of dying by my hand."

"'Honor', is it?"

"It's certainly a better death than that nonsense you were planning earlier. But would you do the same for me?"

"Pardon?" Kurama requested, confused.

"Would you give me the honor of dying by your hand?"

Everything had come full circle for the jaganshi. Despite Mukuro's insistence of his continued existence, Hiei instinctively knew that he had no real reason to live-at least, he wasn't living for his own selfish reasons any longer. He had long ago uncovered his mysterious past. He had already found the whereabouts of his long lost sister. He knew that she was alive and well, and that was all he needed to know. And now he came upon a perfect way to end his life; a life that had already run its course. It was a fitting death for a forbidden child such as he.

"Shigure never gave me the satisfaction of dying by his hand, because Mukuro still had use for me at the time. But I'm tired of this bland existence. So will you give me the satisfaction, old friend?" Hiei queried.

Kurama went silent for a while before answering, "By fading away, a new star is born. I will neither have a star's death nor a death by your hand; I will have a star's rebirth."

But Hiei would not have any of that. 'We finally meet, old friend. I'm ready.' To Kurama, he avowed, "Enough talk. Let's fight!"

* * *

This was the first time Yusuke laid eyes on Munashii's corporeal form, yet he instinctively knew who the armor-clad man was.

"So I suppose you're here to stop me from getting to Hiei and Kurama. Ain't that right, Munashii?" Yusuke said, not asked.

"But of course."

"What I don't understand is how'd you manage to be here and be with Kurama and Hiei at the same time. Is it some sort of magic trick of yours?" Yusuke inquired inquisitively.

"I am nothing, yet I exist. I am everywhere and nowhere at the same time," Munashii solemnly explicated.

"Whatever. Your move, bastard," the Spirit Detective challenged.

"As you wish." With that said, Munashii immediately removed his breastplate, revealing his powerful spirit void. Seeing that they were in a graveyard, the dark abyss concentrated all its power on siphoning just one particular life force, which was Yusuke's.

"Do you really think that the result of this fight will be different from the last time?" Munashii questioned, though it seemed more like a statement with the utter deadness of his tone of voice.

"I don't. I'm not expecting anything. I don't fight expecting to win. I fight because I'll never forgive myself if I let you do as you will," Yusuke countered as he felt his spiritual power get slowly drained off his body.

"'Will'? Such an interesting word," Munashii whispered in atypical mirth. Before long, the vacuum in his chest started to get bigger as it sucked into it more of Yusuke Urameshi's reiki.

'You've faced a lot of things, but have you ever faced a determined Urameshi Yusuke?' a voice in Munashii's subconscious mocked smugly.

"JYU REI JYOU ANTE!"

* * *

With no further hesitation or contestation, Hiei attacked.

Munashii started to protectively move in front of Kurama, but the half-youko waved the nonentity off. "Let him come. This is my fight. I won't be long." The undead one merely nodded.

Faster than the eye could see, Hiei quickly unleashed his furious onslaught.

Before long, with his smooth and graceful reflexes, Kurama reminded the jaganshi what he was good at doing; evasion and defensive maneuvers. The half-youko's seamless defense against Hiei's unrelenting offense presented the perfect deadlock, pure and simple.

The redhead instinctively weaved, parried, and somersaulted away from Hiei's deadly incursions, waiting ever so patiently for the right time to attack. Whoever he was at the moment-whether Kurama, Youko Kurama, or Shuichi Minamino-his fighting technique remained the same, so it made no difference to Hiei what Kurama currently called himself.

Hiei couldn't even begin to fathom the nonsense the half-youko was trying to accomplish this time, but he did know this: Kurama could only be Kurama.

'Being a self-righteous martyr is no way to live your life. Regret doesn't make up for lost moments. You've got to savor each precious second, until the very end.'

The fight... and how the fight was fought... was all that mattered to Hiei. The struggle of life, for him, was life's very essence.

Hiei cut the distance between him and the kitsune as he pressed his attack anew. His frustrated strikes from then on became more determined as he focused them on Kurama's weapon.

In a little while, the fire demon hybrid's superior sword skills overwhelmed the red-haired boy as the latter began to concentrate less on avoiding and more on blocking.

It was just as Hiei wanted. He swiftly shifted his speed as, in the span of a second, he executed thirty-four barely detectable sword strikes.

Moments later, a crimson spray erupted from Kurama's stolen body, painting the landscape red as each and every one of those thirty-four slashes struck home.

Unfortunately, the demon fox saw a key flaw in Hiei's offensive; it left the fire demon wide open for counterattack by means of a sword thrust.

Hiei grunted in pain and agony as he rolled away from Kurama's position, the half-youko's Tsukeyaki Blade dripping in the jaganshi's blood. Yet there was still a smirk on Hiei's self-satisfied face.

"I'm going to savor each precious second of this fight... until the very end."

Kurama knew it was ultimately a useless gesture, but he did it anyway, waving and pointing his grass sword at Hiei while enunciating, "Do what you want. No mater what you do or say, I've already made up my mind."

Hiei, wielding his sword steadfastly, contended, "Haven't you listened to a word I've said? When I say that I'm going to kill you-" The spiky-haired demon turned into a blur in mid-sentence, seemingly surrounding Kurama before he had a chance to dodge.

The redhead readied his Tsukeyaki Blade as he positioned himself to block.

The following events demonstrated the meaning behind the diminutive youkai's unspoken words.

'I really will kill you.'

"Jaou-En-Satsu-Ken!"

* * *

The Spirit Detective's Luminescent Spirit Ante shone so brightly that it seemed like daylight from the sun itself. The burst of energy began to form into the image of a flaming blue phoenix as row upon row of headstones started to chip and crack amidst the strong, scorching winds produced by the manifestation of Yusuke's Spiritual Power.

In just a span of a few seconds, Munashii's vacuum of darkness was already brimming with Yusuke's nearly limitless spirit energy. The expression on the undead one's face, though still flat and mostly unreadable, now had a hint of concern and trepidation. His hollowness dilated further to accommodate the surplus of reiki.

The ground beneath Yusuke's feet began to buckle as he unwittingly summoned even the slumbering ghosts of the dead. The half-demon's reiki went up a few notches as he absorbed the deceased spirits' ghostly power.

The shadow man's usually expressionless mouth curved into an outright frown. "This is..."

Mortuaries crumbled as graves were upturned. Everything went to complete bedlam as Yusuke turned a place of eternal rest into a world of chaos.

'How is it, Munashii? How do you like your fight with Urameshi so far? He's different from the last time you fought him, isn't he? You'll see that every time you fight him, he gets better and better.'

Instead of responding, Munashii merely grit his teeth as he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Pain.

His cloak was now billowing against the blast of reiki Yusuke exuded, looking more and more frayed as time passed. The remnants of his armor also began to crack under pressure, just like brittle ceramic.

'This Urameshi Yusuke's reiki is... incredible. The amount of power he has now is equivalent to that of an army of a hundred thousand-no, hundreds of thousands of warriors. It's like staring into the blinding sun itself.'

'But of course. He is Urameshi Yusuke.'

Munashii attempted to absorb more of Yusuke's spiritual power, but that only resulted in further destruction of his corporeal form.

"Hey, the party's just getting started! What's the matter, Munashii? You're looking a bit down the weather," the half-demon denigrated.

'You're just a puppet with no willpower, and you're fighting someone who _ is_ willpower. Do you really think that you stand a chance?'

'I will fight, but not by my own will.'

'I see. Then leave everything to me.'

Munashii's black hole of nothingness abruptly dissipated and disappeared.

Yusuke furrowed his eyebrows. "Giving up already?"

For the first time in a long, long time, Munashii smiled. "Of course not. Mugen Tou."

* * *

Hiei's flaming sword of darkness disintegrated Kurama's Tsukeyaki Blade with no trouble at all, slashing and burning deep into the half-youko's chest and producing third-degree burns.

Kurama frantically tried to escape from the jaganshi's Jaou-En-Satsu-Ken, but the damage had been done. He could not even breathe right, much less flee.

Hiei poised himself for one final strike as he aimed his fiery blade at Kurama's throat, forcing the kitsune to backpedal to a corner. "I've already made up my mind. If you will not be my death, then I will be yours."

The burning sword from hell would have cleaved Kurama in half... one half burning to oblivion while the other half swimming in a crimson river of death... if not for the white, fibrous and ribbon-like object that quickly wrapped itself around the jaganshi's blade, smothering the flames and buffering the sword's sharp edge. Instead, the weapon harmlessly batted the kitsune's forehead with a pathetic thump.

"What the hell is this?" Hiei demanded in puzzlement and alarm.

The half-youko deftly grabbed the wrapped blade as an uncharacteristic murderous gleam replaced the compassionate green hue of his eyes.

Kurama gestured towards Hiei's bound blade, clarifying, "'This' is a new crossbreed of a Demon World and Human World plant, cultivated specifically to feed on plasma, such as Demon World flames. A perfect countermeasure against your Jaou-En-Satsu techniques."

"..." was all Hiei could reply. In his mind, he rhetorically asked, 'Who the hell are you this time, Kurama?'

The red-haired boy smiled enigmatically. There was now an almost mischievous glint in the kitsune's cruel eyes. "I will give you the 'satisfaction' you so desire, Jaganshi Hiei."

Even though Kurama was still in his human guise, Hiei effortlessly recognized the sadistic, singsong intonation and the merciless yet impish eyes. "Is that so, Youko Kurama?"

* * *

'M-Mugen Tou?' Yusuke hesitantly repeated in his head. "What in the...?"

The Demon Warlord descendant's half-stated question would soon have an answer.

A sword made entirely out of Munashii's void of nonexistence was now in the nonentity's hands. Immediately afterwards, he disappeared.

Before Yusuke could even react, his reiki-powered firebird had already been split in half care of an incredible, imperceptible force. Quickly, the Spirit World Detective felt as if the whole world fell on his shoulders, threatening to crush him as he was sapped of his remaining spirit energy.

'Munashii can use that black hole of his in a lot of ways. That means...!' The sleek-haired young man's eyes widened. "Munashii, you jackass! You've imitated Kuwabara's Rei-Ken using that void of yours!"

"True. Instead of a sword made out of reiki, this is a sword that can cut through reiki." Munashii reappeared beside the detective moments later. "This is the Mugen Tou. Prepare yourself, Urameshi Yusuke."

"Always." Yusuke snorted. "Bring it."

A myriad of Munashii's afterimages filled the cemetery.

Instead of bothering to find out which of the phantasms was the real Munashii, Yusuke decided to 'screw it' as he aimed his pointer finger at all of the doppelgangers.

"REI-GAN!"

The multitude of apparitions coalesced into one as Munashii slashed through the gigantic Spirit Ball, its reiki dissipating into harmless heat and light.

"You don't seem to understand the gravity-"

A thunderous right hook was Yusuke's response to Munashii's pokerfaced taunting.

* * *

The scarlet-haired young man identified as Youko Kurama gingerly wiped off the blood on his chest, absently licking it off his fingers. "I have anticipated your use of the Jaou-En-Satsu-Ken, which was why I've been sowing this hybrid plant's seeds everywhere. In so saying, you can't use your Jaou-En-Satsu techniques on me so easily."

Hiei clutched his sword's hilt tightly as Youko Kurama maintained his grip on the sword's tightly-bound blade. "So you have everything figured out, eh? You're far too arrogant and self-assured, but this is preferable to the endlessly hesitant Kurama."

"But of course. A star's death is only possible to achieve once my opponent wins against these sorts of odds. Are you still up to the challenge, forbidden child of the koorime?"

"Whether you're Kurama or the youko, you still don't know when to shut up." Hiei twisted his fiber-wrapped sword away from the demon fox's clutch and attacked with the weapon's blunted tip.

Youko Kurama chuckled harshly as something began to envelop his right hand. 'Minamino Shuichi didn't even have the decency of letting me transform into my true form. However, this body will suffice. Perhaps I'll have my star's death after all.'

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: The Spirit Detective War.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	16. Chapter 15: Death 1

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please. I'm very poor.

The Death card in tarot could either be interpreted as finality or change. Or both.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Death (Part 1)**

* * *

Youko Kurama heedlessly tore through the jaganshi's stomach as his Plant Claw fully manifested itself. "I've already used this technique against Sensui Shinobu. It misfired then, but I doubt it would now. After all, the difference between a Class-S and a Class-A is far from negligible."

Hiei harrumphed as he used his incredible speed to avoid Youko Kurama's formidable Plant Claw, batting its deadly talons away from him from time to time with his sealed weapon.

There was a great difference between Hiei's furious speed and Youko Kurama's graceful swiftness. The youko was deadly accurate when he attacked.

No matter how fast Hiei was, by attacking the youko with impunity and recklessness, he left himself completely wide open. Although a good offense could serve as an effective defense, that was definitely not the case here.

Hiei was kicked to the head when he tried to duck, slashed to the gut when he tried to lunge, and stabbed to the chest when he tried to dart away from the redhead. Styles made fights, and the youko's fighting style seemed perfectly suited to counter everything the jaganshi could dish out.

The koorime-born youkai's blood was mercilessly spilled across the frost-covered ground, staining the pristine snow. 'If this keeps up, then Kurama will truly be my death.'

Hiei actually contemplated his last thought for a while.

"What are you doing?" Youko Kurama sneered as he backhanded the dumbstruck Hiei on the cheek.

"Not yet. Not quite yet."

"Hmmm? What was that?" the kitsune queried.

Hiei's features were unreadable. "It's not yet over."

"We'll see." With that said, Youko Kurama pounced upon Hiei. The jaganshi didn't even have the chance to exhale.

Hiei swung his wrapped blade towards the kitsune with all his strength. Youko Kurama easily anticipated and caught the weapon with his large, claw-like appendage. With his grip tight, the youko broke the sword in one swift movement.

The fire demon half-breed sneered. 'My attack begins here.'

With nothing left of the blade for the plasma-feeding plant to cling to, Hiei's Jaou-En-Satsu-Sword burst into new life. The fire demon quickly attacked with his weapon of black flame, intending to dismember Youko Kurama's Plant Claw.

The scarlet-haired fox chortled. "Don't be so sure of yourself," he mocked as he effortlessly batted away the flaming sword. "The fire-eating plant isn't my only weapon against your Jaou-En-Satsu-Ken."

"Humph," was Hiei's response as he jettisoned himself towards Kurama with renewed fervor.

* * *

Yusuke quickly backed away from Munashii as he examined the damage he inflicted upon the undead one. As expected, the ghostly apparition wasn't even fazed by the sudden assault.

Unexpectedly, a trail of blood began to flow underneath Munashii's lower lip, his left cheek bruised.

Yusuke smirked. "Huh. You're not so tough after all. You're bleeding, dumbass. Wipe your mouth."

"Is that so?" Munashii monotonously asked as he dabbed his finger on the trail of crimson, smearing it on his chin and absently licking it. "After all this time, I've forgotten how blood tastes. Intriguing."

A moment later, the sleek-haired boy realized that he was merely looking at an afterimage of his nemesis. '...Shit!'

Yusuke was barely able to evade Munashii's strikes from the Mugen Tou. Concern filled the young man's nonexistent heart. There was a chance that the nonentity could get him in the long run if he didn't do something soon. 'Fuck this,' the Reikai Tantei leader thought as he bit the bullet and attempted to grab the black sword.

To his surprise, the blade passed right through his hands.

"The Infinity Sword is a weapon that can cut through anything that is intangible, like flame, oxygen, and reiki. Naturally, the weapon itself is also intangible," Munashii mechanically explicated.

"...Which also means that it can't cut through anything that's not like air! Like me, my flesh, and my bones, for example!" Yusuke declared as he swung his clenched fists wildly at his armor-clad foe.

At that very moment, Yusuke noticed something strange: His fingers, for some weird reason, felt rather cold, numb, and clammy.

"It was foolish of you to try and grab my sword."

Yusuke's fists flayed pathetically at Munashii. Even though the undead one didn't bother to dodge, the half-demon's attacks were much too weak to do any real damage.

"What the-?" Yusuke detailed, alarmed.

"The blade had cut the flow of ki in your fingers. Because of this, fighting with your fists is now useless," Munashii explained evenly as he unceremoniously punched Yusuke in the gut, causing several of the adolescent's bones to shatter upon impact and making him cough blood. From there, the nonentity slashed the errant detective's legs, effectively hindering his quarry's escape.

Even though the Mugen Tou merely passed through Yusuke's legs like they were made of thin air, leaving neither a cut nor a slash, the strike was enough to paralyze the limbs of the young Urameshi.

Munashii lifted the hapless hanyou up in midair. "This is just like our fight in the old woman's dojo; isn't it, Urameshi? But this time the old woman isn't here to save you."

'Shit. He got me again,' Yusuke thought in despair.

* * *

Hiei fell down in a boneless heap as Kurama's Plant Claw nearly shredded him into ribbons, his burning sword of death not at all helping him. 'Dammit. _ This_ Kurama doesn't hesitate at all. I can't use his usual second-guessing to my advantage.'

The jaganshi gnashed his teeth as he charged, razing through the frigid ground with his flamethrower-like Jaou-En-Satsu-Ken. Consecutively, the demon fox Kurama also hurtled himself towards his opponent, reacting to the assault in kind.

A resounding, gunshot-like blaze followed. The two combatants parted ways in opposite directions as a crimson spray erupted between them. Hiei struggled to breathe as he clutched the deep claw marks on his side, his ribs exposed.

"Wonderful," Youko Kurama whispered ecstatically as two of the Plant Claw's fingers fell off, burning into ashes. "Still not enough, though. Just a little more."

Hiei lowered his eyes and lifted his fiery sword perpendicular to his shoulders. Not a word passed through his lips as he waited for his opponent's next move.

"Do you know what happens to a fox that is tamed? What does a tamed fox remind you of?" Kurama asked conversationally as he sauntered towards the jaganshi's direction.

Hiei growled once more. "I thought you'd be different from the dithering Kurama, but it seems that I was wrong. You're also spewing out nonsense." He estimated the distance between him and the kitsune and promptly attacked with his blazing ethereal sword.

Ignoring the fact that Hiei's fiery sword nearly disintegrated the Plant Claw the last time they clashed, Kurama snatched and clutched the burning sword with what was left of his plant weapon.

"A dog. That's what a tamed fox is. A dog is loving, loyal, caring, obedient..." Kurama ranted as he clenched the sword. Blisters quickly formed on his Plant Claw like leprosy. His lips curved into a sneer as he eyed Hiei maniacally. "...Weak and pathetic."

"A dog is an animal that has no pride. He is a slave to his master's whims. Just like the shadow man, he is a mere puppet," Kurama vehemently spat as white, root-like tentacles began to surround his free hand.

"I will not allow myself to die like a dog!" Kurama ferociously snarled as he fully manifested his second Plant Claw, using it to brutally impale the luckless youkai. "This is the only way I can get my pride back."

The black flames of the Jaou-En-Satsu-Ken died out as Hiei was thrown to the ground like a rag doll.

Kurama leisurely strolled towards the jaganshi's prone form. "Do you understand? That's the reason why I fight."

"I've had about enough of you," Hiei grimly stated as he charged with his broken katana. The kitsune reflexively caught the shattered weapon with his left Plant Claw, only to realize moments later that it was probably a mistake for him to do so.

The Jaou-En-Satsu-Ken was once again manifested, its hungry black flames blasting through the palm of the Plant Claw and, thusly, Kurama's left hand like magma from a volcanic eruption. Yet instead of howling in pain, the youko clutched the torch-like blade further. "Quit your little parlor tricks. They insult me."

The Plant Claw, along with what was left of Hiei's sword, exploded in an inferno of burning metal, flesh, and ash, tossing the jaganshi and the kitsune away from each other.

Kurama dispassionately watched the remains of the broken sword crumble into dust in his bloodied, punctured left hand. "You should stop your own nonsense, jaganshi. Give me my star's death. Kill this tamed fox and give him his pride back."

* * *

As Munashii slowly tightened his grip on Yusuke, the Spirit Detective chortled.

"Are you going into shock? Panic? Hysteria? Why do you laugh?" Munashii questioned sullenly.

"Botan said that if I don't get out of this alive, she'll ferry my soul straight to hell," the raven-haired boy managed to mumble before using his willpower to fill his anesthetized fists with reiki, the numbness in his hands subsiding. "Y'know what? I don't want to go to hell."

Yusuke grabbed Munashii's right hand, twisting it and shoving the ethereal blade it was holding into the shadow man's head.

The Mugen Tou went from under Munashii's jaw to all the way through his left temple, protruding like a lobotomizing instrument. The strike effectively disabled the soulless one and his grip on the wayward Reikai Tantei.

"How'd you like that, Munashii? What applies to me applies to you too. I've used your own weapon against you. So how'd you like having _that_ jammed in your head?"

"It's a very interesting feeling, for sure," Munashii petulantly admitted as he gingerly pulled the long weapon out of his head. At that moment, a web of cracks started to form around the undead one's dismal face, startling his opponent. Munashii almost smirked.

"What the fuck happened to your face?" Yusuke whispered as he stared at the nonentity's features in unsure revulsion.

"Of course the Mugen Tou can affect me the same way it affects you. This sword... this void that I can manipulate in a variety of ways... was what I used to shatter my soul, the same way that Asuka's-" Munashii paused momentarily before he continued. "This emptiness broke my soul, my freedom, and my will. Now I will use it to break yours."

After noticing the hint of hesitance in Munashii's voice, a small part of Yusuke felt pity for the former prodigy. 'Even though I don't approve of his methods, Munashii just wants to get his girl back. Who can blame a guy for that? Even though he's got this gothic shtick going on, he'd still do anything for that Asuka chick. If our positions were reversed and I had to bring Kei-Hell, I'd do the exact same thing!'

A wave of a cloak later, the undead being was gone.

Yusuke remembered something very, very important seconds later. 'Shit! My legs are still numb! I can't dodge!'

Munashii was upon the Spirit World Detective in an instant, his Mugen Tou mere inches from the young man's neck.

"Here's a little something I used against Sensui, but with a twist!" the rambunctious teen announced before shouting, "REI-KOU-DAN!"

Instead of aiming his clenched fist at the approaching specter, Yusuke smashed his ki-powered knuckles on the ground, resulting in an explosion that flung him nearly ten feet high in the air and kept his eternally damned nemesis at bay.

Looking down at Munashii from his position in midair, Yusuke shouted, "Double Barrel SHOT GUN!" as he swiftly descended towards the nonentity's cracked and fractured face.

"Mugen Tou, Nobiro," Munashii declared. His Infinity Sword rapidly extended itself in the same way its parent weapon, Kuwabara's Rei-Ken, would, going straight for the Spirit Detective's chest.

Yusuke winced as he plunged into the spear-like sword of emptiness. Consequently, his left lung stopped functioning. "Munashii...!" the spirit detective managed to shout in spite of his respiratory problems, wheezing as he further descended towards the soulless one.

Munashii returned the Mugen Tou to its normal size as he prepared it for a second strike. As Yusuke came upon him, he swung his sword in two crisscrossing arcs, figuratively slicing through the hanyou's wrists and cutting off the flow of ki from both his opponent's fists. Thusly, the intended explosion from the Double Barrel Shot Gun merely became two resonant thuds from a half-demon's impassioned offensive.

But the resonant thuds were enough to further break Munashii's shattered visage.

Yusuke painfully rolled away from his last attack as he desperately tried to catch up with his breath. He concentrated hard to put the feeling back in his legs and hands, but the current state of his lung made things a bit difficult.

The reckless young lad stared at Munashii, who was now covering his battered, bleeding and shattered face with one hand.

"Well, well, well. It looks like it's my turn now," Munashii concluded.

Yusuke wasn't completely sure, but he felt that something was amiss. "What was that, faerie?"

"Faerie? Oh, please. Don't give me that," Munashii derisively and uncharacteristically retorted as he clawed and tore at his cracked and split face. "I'm no faerie; I'm a man's man. And this man's man will show you how a real man fights... Urameshi."

From there, Yusuke Urameshi witnessed the unexpected.

* * *

As Hiei watched Munashii in the corner of his eye, he could almost swear that the nonentity, who was presently the designated witness to the current events, wasn't really 'there' during most of the battle. 'Humph. Is he going to just stand there?'

"Are _you_ going to just stand there?" Youko Kurama derided after reading the forbidden child's thoughts, adroitly swinging his remaining Plant Claw at Hiei's seemingly motionless form. The sharp claws, for a split-second, ripped through skin and flesh. Later on, it merely grated at the snow-laden ground as the jaganshi became a phantom.

The demon fox blocked the fire demon's oncoming fist with his elongated artificial claw, its distorted fingers enveloping most of the diminutive youkai's arm. "Now let me pay you back for my left hand." A sickening, wet crunch was heard afterwards.

Ignoring pain, anguish, exhaustion, and reason, Hiei let the Plant Claw mutilate his left arm as he moved in to strike the bastard Kurama's self-assured face with his right fist repeatedly. He released his flurry of blows like rounds from a gatling gun; never ceasing, never ending, without mercy.

The crimson-haired demon fox's head snapped back from the strength of the jaganshi's unrelenting punches. He felt a molar loosen in his mouth as each blow sent currents of mind-numbing pain to his skull.

'This is just like my fight with the half-demon,' Youko Kurama noted amidst his agony. 'But, like before, this isn't the star's death that I demand. In real combat, if there is one technique that can bring an enemy down, all others become useless.'

Seeing an opportunity to counterattack, the former Makai thief spat his blood-soaked tooth directly into the fire demon's left eye, temporarily blinding and distracting the half-breed youkai.

Kurama grappled Hiei effortlessly, the demonic fox's eyes sadistic and ruthless. "'Bleed for me,' Urameshi told me once. Do the same for me."

Hiei was flung to the ground, crashing helplessly as bits of frost-encrusted gravel and stone pelted him on the face.

No words were exchanged between the two opponents as Kurama pinned Hiei down with his body. Time seemed to stand still for the inauspicious pair as the youko aimed his Plant Claw's deadly talons at the jaganshi's surgically made third eye.

'Go ahead and gouge that damned jagan,' Hiei mentally dared, perfectly aware of Youko Kurama's ability to read minds. 'I've already found what I'm looking for. I don't need a third eye anymore, and I don't need the power of the Black Dragon either. I have no regrets. I've got nothing to lose. Do it.'

"Oh really now?" Kurama's golden eyes seemed to sparkle impishly, as if he were expecting something interesting to happen right then and there. "Are you really being honest with yourself, Jaganshi Hiei? Is this how you want to die?"

"You've got it all wrong, as usual."

Youko Kurama could only watch in amusement as black embers of flame began to eat away his remaining Plant Claw.

An earth-shattering explosion soon followed.

* * *

Yusuke watched... _stared_... at Munashii's broken visage in morbid fascination.

Before long, Munashii's face fell to the ground like a brittle earthen mask. Soon afterwards, the remains of the shadow man's head followed, crumbling in the same vein of a ceramic mannequin's hollowed head.

'So I did it? I finally beat Munashii?'

Unfortunately, Munashii's collapsing head showed something that Yusuke didn't expect to see in a million years...

"K-Kuwabara?"

...Kuwabara's face in place of Munashii's.

It was horror beyond horrors, indeed; or weirdness beyond weird. In a surreal twist, it was actually Kuwabara, not Munashii, whom Yusuke was fighting all along.

The taller, fiery-haired boy merely stared back at Yusuke while smiling a baleful yet distinctive grin. "Long time, no see. How've you been?"

"Kuwabara, you idiot! You let Munashii possess you again!" Yusuke concluded irritably. It made perfect sense, after all; it wasn't as if Kuwabara intended to let Munashii possess his body this time around. "Now I have to beat the crap out of you so that I can rid you of that damn bastard."

"Yeah, that's right. I'm Munashii the bogeyman, evil incarnate itself. Fear me," Kuwabara quipped before disappearing altogether in the blink of an eye. He was upon Yusuke in an instant, immediately anticipating the half-demon's almost automatic punching reflex by crouching down on one knee.

Taken by surprise by the sudden attack in the middle of a conversation, Yusuke didn't react fast enough as he punched at thin air, leaving himself wide open while Kuwabara sunk his stance low. In the moment that the half-demon needed to steady himself, Kuwabara attacked by punching the almighty Yusuke's groin with all his strength.

A loose bunch of expletives soon followed as Yusuke heroically gripped his crotch. Seeing his fellow detective's compromised position, Kuwabara, in turn, grabbed Yusuke's head and repeatedly slammed it on his knee.

"You ASSHOLE! This isn't pro-wrestling!" Yusuke shouted as he grasped Kuwabara by the hair and brusquely flung him towards the crypts. The orange-haired boy crashed hard onto the concrete slabs.

Recovering from his initial shock, Kuwabara dusted off the armored garb and cloak that Munashii 'left' him as he got up on his feet. He straightened the goofy grin on his face, saying in a mockingly grave voice, "You better 'exorcise' Munashii out of me while you still can."

Yusuke bewilderedly looked at his supposed adversary. "Kuwabara? Is that really you?" he queried in deliberate slowness. Kuwabara's last attack was definitely not something that Munashii would attempt, Yusuke surmised in his head.

Kuwabara raised an eyebrow at Yusuke's statement. "Figured it out already, eh? You're too fast for me, Urameshi."

"You're talking shit!" Yusuke growled as he glowered.

"You noticed? Well, here's some more shit, from me to you. Remember when I told you that I'll make you experience how it feels to be a loser? Well, today's that day!" Kuwabara stated proudly.

"Fuck you. You always say that. Why the hell are you doing this?" Yusuke demanded.

Kuwabara shrugged. "Because I can? Because I want to? Because this is an opportunity of a lifetime? Take your pick."

"Damn it, you're in my way! I don't have time for this! Kurama and Hiei...!"

"Screw them. They're now the least of your worries."

Yusuke had had enough of the inane conversation. Attacking with the same 'faster than thought' speed that Kuwabara used on him earlier, the half-demon swiftly moved in to strike down the curly-haired boy. Kuwabara reacted in kind, dashing forward while crouching in one smooth movement and delivering a massive right punch towards his rival's strike.

Yusuke's fist simultaneously connected with Kuwabara's, resulting in a shockwave that reverberated all over the cemetery. After the dust cleared, the combatants found themselves flung several feet away from each other. Yusuke struggled hard to get up in breathless disbelief.

Chuckling to himself, Kuwabara poignantly added, "Tell me, Urameshi: Did you hold back on all the one hundred fifty-six times I lost to you? Because holding back now won't be such a good idea."

Yusuke smirked as he mumbled something to himself.

"You still can't take me seriously, Urameshi? Well, let me wipe off that smirk on your face. NITOURYU! Rei-Ken and Mugen Tou combination!" As Kuwabara shouted the words, two swords appeared in each of his hands: one as golden as the sun, the other as dark as night.

"So you're really serious about this? Then bring it on," Yusuke beckoned.

* * *

The smell of blood and burnt flesh was in the air. Youko Kurama took note of the cocktail of death as hungry red embers slowly began to consume his flesh. Such was the power of the Rengoku-Shou.

'You offer yourself up, claiming to have nothing to lose yet you still fight as if you have everything to lose. I won't even pretend to understand the logic behind your actions. I only care for what you can do for me. This nonsense isn't worthy of my attention. Give me my glorious star's death!' Kurama telepathically avowed in a grandiose manner, even though he himself appeared to be at Hiei's mercy and not the other way around.

Hiei passively looked at Kurama's crumpled form before he spoke. "I have no regrets, and I have nothing to lose. Even without the jagan or the Kokuryuha, I will choose to fight until I fall."

"How melodramatic," Kurama rasped. The small fires on the kitsune's body had started to spread, threatening to engulf him.

"You're the sentimental fool. You want a glorious death? There's nothing glorious about dying. Once you're dead, you're dead. It's that simple."

"Then stop complicating things already. Fight me with the power that can destroy thousands with one fell swoop. You'll find hitting me with anything less more difficult than you think."

"Go ahead and whine. A whipped dog can do little else." Flames of darkness burst forth Hiei's good hand as he shouted, "Jaou-En-Satsu-Rengoku-Shou!"

Kurama chortled as the off-white, bandage-like plant hybrid from before instantaneously wrapped itself around his burnt and bleeding body.

Punch after fiery punch left little more than a faded burn mark on the plant's fibrous surface. Hiei grunted in disgust and frustration.

"You still remember this hybrid plant of mine, right? Well, your Rengoku-Shou has woken up more of its sleeping brothers. Like I said, I've planted its seeds _everywhere_." The youko laughed as he eyed Hiei playfully.

Before Hiei could react, the sentient plasma-feeding plant rapidly fastened itself onto his flaming fist. The black flames quickly died out as the half-breed plant ravenously absorbed the fiery plasma.

Kurama further smirked as he got up to his feet. He rubbed his 'bandaged' hands gleefully. "What are you going to do now, forbidden child?" He afterwards unfurled a meter-long strip of the half-demonic shokubutsu.

Hiei roared in desperate anger as he attempted to strike Kurama down with his wrapped-up fist, plasma-feeding plants be damned.

All traces of mischievousness in Kurama's golden eyes vanished as soon as he wielded the crossbreed plant like his familiar weapon, the Rose Whip.

Pain quickly followed for the jaganshi.

Hiei howled in agony as the kitsune repeatedly lashed him with the fibrous plant hybrid, intentionally hitting and aggravating his various injuries.

"You have nothing to lose, eh? Then you have a meaningless life. You don't desire a glorious death? Then I suppose a meaningless death is enough for you. Here's your death match!" Youko Kurama pledged as he wrapped and twisted the ribbon-like plant over Hiei's neck.

The fire demon didn't even bother to struggle. Silence followed, but it was merely the calm before the storm.

A veritable inferno of black flames emerged from every pore of Hiei's skin, scorching through everything in its path, including the plasma-feeding plant wrapped around his neck and hand. Even Kurama's makeshift 'mummification' of sorts was not enough to protect him from the sheer intensity of the fire demon's burning youki.

"And now for the critical moment," Kurama sneeringly said just as he was knocked away by the rupture of Hiei's demonic energy.

Shortly afterwards, hundreds of Kurama's Makai-Ningenkai Plant half-breeds bloomed to life. These gauze-like creatures hungrily lapped up the barrage of plasma just as they converged towards their nourishment's source: Hiei.

"Will you sink or swim, jaganshi?"

* * *

It was merely a memory, but it was a memory etched deep within the recesses of his mind. It was a memory of the retreating form of a sleek-haired youth.

"Don't ever do that again, man! If you keep on threatening Urameshi like that, he might kill you the next time!" his friend told him earnestly, wincing at his appearance. He was given quite the sound beating.

"SHUT UP! I'm going to fight him until I beat the living daylights out of him! Do you hear me?" he shouted back fervently and single-mindedly. He didn't know it at the time, but he'd soon find his fights with Yusuke Urameshi to be the best fights he ever had, bar none.

"I never lost a fight until I met him; I will not give up to him EVER!"

* * *

"With this sort of circumstances, you only have one more avenue for attack," Youko Kurama reckoned with an almost singsong voice, his golden eyes glinting. "Enough with the parlor tricks. It's time for the climax."

The sea of ribbon-like plants surrounded the black pyre that was Hiei. Several of them were incinerated by the intensity of the flames, but their incredible numbers soon put the odds of smothering the flaming youkai into their favor.

"The more intense the flames, the tighter the plant's grip on the source of the flames," Kurama explained evenly as Hiei struggled against the half-breed creatures. "With the amount and intensity of the flames you're producing, you'll be veritably crushed by my half-demon plants."

Hiei was far too preoccupied wrestling against the upsurge of taupe to respond to the youko's articulations. All three of the jaganshi's eyes widened as he was literally drowned by the pulsating mass of fibrous plants.

Moments later, there was only silence as each and every last ember of Hiei's demonic fires were put out by the plasma-feeding flora.

Kurama counted the seconds before hearing the phrase he so longed to hear. '...Two. Three.' It was a phrase of certain death to many.

"Jaou-En-Satsu-KOKURYUHA!"

* * *

"COME HERE AND GET SOME, URAMESHI!" Kuwabara boisterously hollered as he charged at Yusuke, his Rei-Ken extended like a long, glowing medieval lance.

Yusuke easily anticipated the charge by leaping straight up into the air as Kuwabara crashed hard into one of the crypts. "Jeez, Kuwabara. You now got the power to 'kick ass', and this is the best that you can come up with?" the Spirit Detective Leader derided just as he landed.

"You shut up or I'll make you shut up!" Kuwabara screamed, charging and inelegantly swinging his Rei-Ken around in the hopes of getting close enough for a strike.

'Just as long as he can't get close, he can't-' Yusuke halted in mid-thought as he saw Kuwabara's myriad of cloaked and armored afterimages materialize.

Every split second that followed, Kuwabara attacked, and Yusuke couldn't even catch sight of his strikes. It started off as little nicks and scratches. After a short time, these grew into deeper cuts and lesions.

The raven-haired warrior was not amused by the turn of events. "Cut the..." he paused for breath, "crap! Rei-Kou-Dan! Rei-Kou-Dan! REI-KOU-DAN!" he roared, panting heavily.

The multiple arcs of energy effortlessly blasted through many of the phantasms, halting Kuwabara's momentum. That done, Yusuke suddenly bent down, compressing his aching body like a large spring, and charged forward. "SHOT GUN!"

A dozen or so fist-sized spheres of blue fire erupted from Yusuke's punch, all aimed towards his reckless opponent.

Kuwabara made a rather obscene gesture with his other hand as he sliced and swatted each and every one of the energy balls with the Mugen Tou, their reiki dispersing into an shower of sparks.

'Damn. Almost forgot about that black sword. So it can go through anything solid and slice through anything that's not solid. Okay then. That means I better stay the hell away from it!' Yusuke assessed as he weaved through the smashed sepulchers and tombstones while eyeing his rambunctious nemesis warily.

"So you're using Munashii's tricks now, eh? You must be real proud of yourself, having to use his special black hole powers just so you can get a chance to beat me," Yusuke taunted despite his growing fatigue and breathing problems.

"Says the guy that had to use Granny Genkai's Spirit Light Wave Gem just to beat Toguro. Talk about your double standards!" Kuwabara rejoined as he disappeared and reappeared in various directions. In a matter of moments, Yusuke Urameshi was lacerated countless times enough for him to look like he was scourged by a whip.

Several thoughts came to Yusuke's mind as he defended himself from Kuwabara's prodigious assault. Narrowing his eyes, he nodded affirmatively to himself. 'That sounds like a plan.'

* * *

A firestorm of black flames in the guise of demonic dragon spirits emerged from the field of fibrous material. Since the gauze-like flora could only feed upon plasma by means of smothering said plasma's fuel source, they were helpless against the creatures of pure flame. They had no solid fuel source to cling onto when it came to these Black Dragon Spirits.

Kurama chuckled gaily. "A youkai deserves to be killed by a youkai. You have passed the test; you are worthy enough to give me my star's death."

Hiei gasped as he struggled against several hundred tons of plant fiber, unleashing all of his flame dragons towards one particular target.

"KURAMA!"

"That's right; scream my name in an overly dramatic manner. We have finally reached the climax, after all. I'm the horribly evil villain to your heroic, angst-ridden character. Now end my villainy and make use of your ultimate magic trick that will directly be responsible for my demise!"

Each dragon spirit crashed into Kurama one after the other, engulfing the fox spirit trapped within a human body with flames from the very depths of Makai.

Several hundred strips of the voracious Makai-Ningenkai plant hybrid strapped themselves all over Kurama's burning body in a futile attempt to lap up the delicious black flames that surrounded him. Binding the kitsune tightly, they threatened to unwittingly squash their current supplier of plasma. In any case, they temporarily protected him from the draconic blaze.

'Fascinating; I now have two alternatives for my star's death: Death by the tightly compressing plant hybrid, or death by the Kokuryuha.' The demon fox struggled for breath as he let out a small chuckle. 'Either way, it'll still be certain death.'

The supposed safety that the crossbreed plant afforded Kurama was ultimately for naught, seeing how its bandage-like strips eventually burned up under the immense pressure of the Makai flames. The snowy ground and leafless trees of the park were immediately disintegrated and vaporized by the destructive power of the Kokuryuha. None could be spared from the fiery onslaught. It was just the way Youko Kurama wanted it.

'Burn. Let me crash and burn. Let me die in a beautiful supernova for that brief moment of glory. This is the best, most gorgeous 'death scene' for me,' Kurama thought as he let himself get carried away by the powerful flow of the Dragons of the Darkness Flame.

Hiei could only look at the seemingly docile kitsune in confusion, his mouth slightly agape. "What the hell are you doing, fox? This isn't over! Get up! FIGHT BACK!" But the jaganshi's demands fell on deaf ears.

From there, Youko Kurama awaited oblivion. Unfortunately, oblivion wasn't waiting for him then and there.

Before Youko Kurama realized what was happening, Munashii was already behind him. The undead one's spectral void immediately reacted to the oncoming barrage of flame, dilating as it redirected the black dragons away from the youko and into its shadowy maw.

"Checkmate."

Youko Kurama was completely caught off-guard by the whispered avowal-because he himself stated it. Or rather, Kurama himself stated it.

'Minamino Shuichi,' Youko Kurama mentally sneered in annoyance as the supposed shadow man somehow kept the Kokuryuha, his "star's death", at bay. 'Remove this puppet of yours from my midst. He's delaying my-'

Images began to flood the kitsune's mind... familiar, yet also beyond his comprehension. Images became swirls of unintelligible color and movement. It was not unlike an infant's first wake in the world as it looked around in an altogether alien environment, trying to make sense of it all.

'Minamino Shuichi! What is happening to me?'

'Because you've spent all our power fighting Hiei, neither of us will be able to resist Munashii's spirit vortex. In this half-dead state, the process of absorbing our soul will be much quicker than before,' Kurama elucidated equably.

"It seems that the tamed fox has duped the wild fox this time," Munashii droned robotically as he began to absorb into himself the soul of a demon fox.

Youko Kurama narrowed his eyes in understanding. 'I see.' He smirked in acknowledgment. 'Well played, my doppelganger. Fine. Do as you wish. Let's see this 'death scene' you so desire.'

Once more, the silken darkness draped over Kurama's subconscious.

"It's finally done, Asuka."

* * *

"Reikai NITOURYU HA!" Yusuke screamed with barely contained fervor as he blasted Kuwabara with a magnified version of his Shot Gun maneuver, sending a flurry of energy waves towards the armor-clad boy's direction.

Kuwabara disdainfully snorted as he again cut and sliced through the barrage of azure. "It doesn't matter how strong you pump those damn ki-shots. As long as I can swat them away from me-"

"Who the hell are you talking to?" Yusuke remarked, quickly appearing beside Kuwabara while the armored adolescent continued to talk to thin air and swat spirit balls.

"Ura-!" Kuwabara managed to squeak out as his mouth went agape.

Yet another violent upsurge of volatile reiki and debris rocked the whole graveyard. A shower of pure spiritual energy hit Kuwabara's face in full force. Giving him no chance to recover, Yusuke followed through the ki-shower with another devastating Rei-Kou-Dan.

'The Rei-Ken is a weaker weapon compared to Munashii's black sword. If I can keep Kuwabara from using the black sword on me, then all I have to deal with is his Rei-Ken.'

From there, Yusuke noticed the Rei-Ken headed straight for him. Sidestepping in the nick of time, he managed to only get grazed by the Spirit Sword instead of getting outright disemboweled.

Unfortunately, the half-demon failed to anticipate and dodge Kuwabara's follow-up strike with the Mugen Tou at the same spot where the Rei-Ken missed him. The plasma in Yusuke's half-demonic blood dispersed upon contact with the dark sword, making him bleed like a hemophiliac. Crimson falls soon gushed from the shallow yet deadly wound of the somewhat impaired Urameshi.

Subsequently, Kuwabara flung his erstwhile opponent away from him by means of an extended Rei-Ken-his finishing touch to a magnificent offensive.

Kuwabara smirked. "What do you think, Urameshi? We're now in the same goddamned level. I ain't below the Warrior Food Chain no more. What're you going to do about it?"

Yusuke winced at the blur that was Kuwabara before he succumbed to momentary slumber.

* * *

"Kurama! KURAMA!" Hiei raged as he ripped through the remnants of the half-demonic plant in a desperate attempt to stop his fellow youkai from committing suicide. 'He tricked me! He set up the whole fight just so he could die by my Kokuryuha!'

After finally getting through the field of organic bandages and gauzes, Hiei was greeted by a scene he dreaded the most: Munashii sucking the life out of Kurama.

"Puppet! Release Kurama! Jaou-En-Satsu-Kokuryuha!" Hiei hollered, aiming all his remaining dragons of black fire at the impassive shadow man.

If Munashii had the capacity to snort derisively, he would have. The powerful Kokuryuha were effortlessly absorbed by his spirit vortex as though they were water to a kitchen drain.

All except one.

"Let go of Kurama's soul right this instant!" Hiei demanded once more as he drew his sole remaining black dragon unto himself, letting it possess his body.

"Too slow, too late," Munashii mechanically evaluated. "The kitsune's soul has already been absorbed. His spirit is not in this plane of existence anymore."

Hiei practically bathed in the dark conflagration of Demon World fire as his anger rose to epic proportions. "If you don't let go of Kurama's soul, then there won't even be a 'shattered sense of yourself' left when I'm through with you."

"Why?" Munashii wondered out loud, as if Hiei's threats baffled him. "Why should I do that? And why do this, koorime? Why save the kitsune when he himself _wants_ to bring Minamino Shuichi back? Have you fallen in love with him? Did you like the kiss he gave you a while back?"

Hiei snarled, took a deep breath, and said, "Half of me died when he kissed me that fateful day; so I'm already half-dead. I was convinced then and there that he was truly going to be my death."

Munashii tilted his head curiously. "Did you just jest? It is surreal to see you jest."

"Humph. I don't take seriously anything that's insignificant. Now bring me back Kurama. He and only he could be my death."

* * *

Yusuke heard a voice; a voice that echoed in his mind.

"You're not really that unpredictable when one figures out that the reason no one can read your mind is because you usually don't use it in the first place."

It was a stupid, insulting voice, apparently.

"Shut up, you old hag!" Yusuke groused irksomely to the familiar voice. "I don't think about things. I know all about it on a gut level; no need for thinking."

The image of Genkai in Yusuke's mind smirked at the youth, chuckling. "So what is your gut telling you now?"

"Nobody beats up Urameshi Yusuke like a human punching bag using, of all things, Munashii's powers! I won't stand for it!"

Genkai snorted derisively at Yusuke's declaration. "Then you've already lost, fool."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Genkai shook her head. "You couldn't take it, being beaten. You just couldn't stand it. From your limited experience, you always _have_ to win every battle you fight. Or, if and when you lose, you just _have_ to stand up again to fight once more-to the very last drop of your blood, even. There was just too much at stake at the time for you to lose. You couldn't afford losing."

Yusuke thought for all of three seconds. "Your point being?"

Genkai looked straight into Yusuke's eyes, the latter suddenly standing upright in attention.

"Tell me, do you fight to win? Is winning your main reason for fighting?"

Those were simple questions, but they were also somewhat complicated, in a sense. Yusuke was unusually silent for a few moments before he replied, "I fight because I-"

"Then fight because of that reason. Nothing more, nothing less. That's the answer you're looking for."

* * *

As Yusuke awoke, he suddenly laughed out loud, much to Kuwabara's chagrin. Soon, the half-demon was in stitches, rolling on the earthy ground of the cemetery while he chuckled his heart out, even with the coughing fit he had afterwards.

"What the hell's so funny?" Kuwabara ominously asked, enraged.

"You are," Yusuke replied, chuckling while slightly coughing. "I can't believe you've counted how many times you've lost to me."

"Humph. You're bringing that up _now_? While I'm kicking your ass? Really now, Urameshi. You sound like a sore loser."

"One hundred and fifty-seven," Yusuke said.

"WHAT?" Kuwabara exclaimed.

"You heard me. We haven't had a serious fight in ages. I think it's about time you tallied another loss in your imaginary scorecard."

"Right. Tell that to me _after_ you've beaten me," Kuwabara scoffed.

Yusuke guffawed. "It's practically done, I tell you."

* * *

Hiei quickly whisked through the incinerated remains of the plant hybrids as he went straight for Munashii.

"It's not as if you can do anything now. The kitsune's soul had already left Minamino Shuichi's body. It's that simple," Munashii deadpanned as phantoms of himself literally appeared everywhere.

Hiei blindly swung a flaming fist at the nearest apparition; typically, his punch hit nothing but air, and the flames of his fist were put out as soon as his strike was in the specter's vicinity.

Munashii grabbed Hiei by his's torn and bleeding arm, twisting it in a compromising position. "You're fighting with just one good arm now? With various cuts, bruises and broken bones? How illogical. You're in no condition to fight, and you know it. Just give up."

Hiei turned and punched the undead specter repeatedly in the same manner he attacked Kurama earlier. Even without the Rengoku-Shou's reddened flames, the attack should still be powerful enough to subdue Munashii.

It wasn't.

Hiei's three eyes widened in understanding. 'All this time, I thought that he countered everything I used on him with his void and his speed. But it's not that he's faster, he's actually...!'

"I am nowhere and everywhere at the same time. I don't exist, yet I still do," Munashii stated as he inadvertently relinquished his hold of Hiei once he turned incorporeal. "I possess both the abilities of the living and the dead. I live between two planes of existence and I can cross over either one of them at my master's will."

'So that's how he was able to escape my physical attacks and possess the bodies of people! He's half-ghost! He's invulnerable like a ghost, but he can affect reality like a living being!' Hiei concluded as he grit his teeth. 'So how the hell do I beat him?'

"This isn't the time to hesitate," Munashii expressionlessly noted as a multitude of his apparitions savagely mauled Hiei. "This is what I meant when I said, 'Heaven and hell for Asuka.' This is my heaven and hell. Feel its fury, koorime."

"Bastard," Hiei spat out as phantom after phantom pummeled him into submission. The jaganshi seemed helpless against the broken spirit's offensive. From the front, from behind, from the side-Munashii's specters attacked everywhere.

But in reality, Hiei was completely unfazed by the elaborate onslaught. The blows that rained on him were nothing more than a light drizzle on his toughened skin. He clenched his bloodied fist. His arm, which was broken by the Plant Claw a short time ago, was now completely healed. This was the true power of the Kokuryuha possession technique.

"Humph. Jaou-En-Satsu-Rengoku-Shou!" Hiei grunted and howled as he finally counterattacked. The powered-up Purgatory Wound exploded like many-megaton explosives, destroying everything in its path; everything except Munashii.

"It seems that this fight will end in a draw. I can't seem to hurt you and you can't seem to hurt me," Munashii droned as he absorbed more of Hiei's blazing youki.

"I don't like fights that end in a draw. It's one way or the other for me: Win or die."

"So you're going to kill me then? You're going to attempt to kill someone who's already dead?" Munashii questioned morosely.

"If killing you twice is what I need to get the death match I want, then so be it," Hiei resolutely stated as his eyes of darkness started to open up all over his transmogrified green body. "I will go through your heaven and hell for Kurama."

* * *

"So what technique are you planning to use now? The Rei-Kou-Dan? The Shot Gun? The Jyu-something-or-the-other? The Rei-Gan? Go ahead and try. Try them all, and I'll stop them cold," Kuwabara glibly bragged as he posed dramatically. "This is my moment of glory, Urameshi."

Yusuke harrumphed as he gingerly rose to his feet. "Your 'moment of glory', eh? Then I'll give you the fight your 'glory' deserves!" The sleek-haired boy became a blur as he renewed his assault.

Kuwabara reacted in kind as dozens of his phantoms again appeared and disappeared all over the cemetery. Strikes were met up with punches as the two teenagers heatedly attacked each other like saber-toothed tigers out for blood.

Yusuke managed to stop Kuwabara's lightning fast Rei-Ken strikes and impossible-to-block Mugen Tou slashes by parrying his opponent by the forearms. With that done, the half-demon proceeded to viciously headbutt the fiery-haired boy repeatedly.

Fighting against his sudden grogginess, Kuwabara swung his Rei-Ken in desperate retaliation.

Yusuke deftly caught and broke the weapon in half bare-handedly. Gripping the broken piece of spirit energy tight, the half-demon stabbed and ripped through Kuwabara's left calf.

The armored boy yowled in utter torment, tears streaming beneath his eyes.

Taking advantage of his chain-mail-armored rival's distraction, Yusuke fired a point blank Rei-Gan at Kuwabara's right kneecap, busting through the metal knee guard.

Yusuke quickly retreated a good distance away from Kuwabara, deftly avoiding the taller boy's expected counterattack with the outstretched Mugen Tou.

"Go ahead and try using Munashii's afterimage technique now that both your legs are out of commission. I dare you," Yusuke said in a smug, self-congratulatory manner.

It was now Kuwabara's turn to burst into inexplicable laughter. "I don't need to." He chortled some more, even though it sounded a bit forced, considering his present disposition.

Yusuke raised an eyebrow. "Oh, let me guess. You've been holding back all this time, and you're now going to pull something out of your butt that'll miraculously put the battle in your favor; is that right?"

Kuwabara's mouth sinisterly curved as a golden rod with a unique energy signature formed in his right hand. "You have no idea. Jigen Tou."

* * *

'Once the koorime fully manifests his true demonic form, he'll be able to summon even more of his black dragons,' Munashii deduced as he sauntered towards his fearsome nemesis.

Jaganshi Hiei exuded sweltering youki as he increased the dark energy of the remaining black dragon within his body.

Munashii stared blankly at the Hiei's vaporous aura. 'Urameshi Yusuke proved to me that an excess of spirit energy is more than enough to damage my body. The same can be said for excess demon energy. It may prove fatal for me to absorb more of the koorime's Kokuryuha. Drastic measures must be taken to ensure Minamino Shuichi's rebirth.'

Just as Hiei was about to release a dozen more of his flame dragons, Munashii pointed his finger at the demon and uttered two simple yet distinct words.

"Mugen-Gan."

A concentrated beam of darkness passed through Hiei's full jaganshi form, debilitating him. He afterwards reverted to his normal form as he collapsed. Two-thirds of his power dissipated as his remaining black dragon spirit died inside him. "...A copycat Rei-Gan!" he somehow blurted out in disbelief.

"That is more or less correct, except my Mugen-Gan makes use of the negative force of my vortex. One concentrated shot is enough to destroy every last wisp of youki in a demon's soul. The black dragon that possessed you shielded you from my first shot. You won't be so lucky with my second shot."

Hiei struggled to gain a vertical base, but his weakening body failed to heed his wishes; with buckling knees and a vertigo-ridden migraine, he groggily staggered like a drunken fool. The half-breed cursed his moment of weakness, his right arm the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the ground altogether.

Munashii charged his forefinger with the negative force of his spectral void once more. "This is your final warning. Stand down or suffer the fate of Matsui Asuka."

The fire demon's crimson eyes suddenly widened, his third, resplendent one giving acknowledgement to a chilling foreboding; a foreboding caused by his reminiscence of a stray memory. Hiei closed his eyes while keeping his jagan open.

"You trusted me with your life while you were in that filthy human's clutches, right? Unconditionally?" Hiei heard himself ask.

"Yes, I did," he heard her say.

"Then give me that same trust now. I will be all right. I just have something to resolve."

"Y-You will be back, right?"

"Please trust me."

Hiei opened his crimson eyes again as the last statement echoed in his mind. He pulled something from the side of his strap-on boots, gingerly unwrapping the unknown object. His third eye shone a luminous green as he narrowed his two other eyes. 'It's all clear to me now, Yukina.'

From there, Hiei charged.

"Mugen-Gan."

* * *

No matter where or how Yusuke dodged, the Jigen Tou was sure to slash him with the speed Kuwabara was swinging the ki-blade. Space and dimension were of no consequence to the Dimension Sword, and neither was distance.

Yusuke coarsely cursed under his breath. The Jigen Tou cut him deeply and accurately. The distance of the strike was wholly up to Kuwabara, and there was little the half-demon could do about it.

"So you really _were_ holding back, huh?" Yusuke deduced as he smiled wanly. "And now you're using your full power. That's good."

Kuwabara half-snorted and half-sneered. "So I suppose you're going to tell me that you were also holding back and you're now going to use your full power. Ain't that right, Urameshi?"

"You're a complete dumbass," Yusuke insulted in all bluntness. "Didn't you know that I've never held back on you in any of our fights? That's the reason you lost."

Kuwabara didn't quite know what to say to that.

Yusuke grinned with reckless abandon. "One hundred percent of my power all the way, Kuwabara. It's all or nothing."

"Fine then. All or nothing."

"Then we finally understand each other."

Summoning up all his remaining strength from the very depths of his soul, Yusuke began charging up not one, but two of his pointer fingers with concentrated spiritual power. "Eat this, Kuwabara; RENSHYAA!"

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: The truth about Munashii.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	17. Chapter 16: Death 2

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please. I'm very poor.

Before a true rebirth can occur, a death must take place. It's the circle of life.

* * *

**Chapter 16: Death (Part 2)**

* * *

_Many months ago..._

"Hiei-san?"

The koorime and fire demon hybrid was startled by the seemingly innocent query. He winced in pain when he turned around towards the origin of the gentle voice a bit too fast for comfort.

"Hiei-san, you're badly hurt! You better come back into the house. It's... cold."

The fire demon would've huffed in reply at the silliness of the koorime's request had he not deemed it a rude answer to give to her. "I'm a fire demon. The cold means nothing to me if I can help it."

"I'm sorry! Genkai-baasan keeps telling me that too, by mistake. I've rather grown accustomed to it. It's sort of funny, really, b-but still! You better come in anyway! You shouldn't be straining yourself like this, because your injuries are still fresh! You may be a powerful youkai, but even youkai have their limits," Yukina insisted, nearly pleaded.

"Why do you care?" Hiei suddenly asked, surprising even himself by the brashness of his question. His ruby eyes darted back and forth as he half-expected, half-dreaded the reply. He was about to cut her off with a rushed apology of sorts when he saw the gentle look she gave him, the words dying in his lips.

There was the slightest of pauses before Yukina spoke. "Of course I care! You cared enough when you rescued me from my forced captivity with the human, Tarukane. So I, in turn, care for you as well." Her ruby eyes reflected his own-identical in both appearance and the amount of worry found in them-sister's eyes to brother's eyes.

Hiei cursed himself for being so insensitive. He looked back at those large, red eyes and queried, "You trusted me with your life while you were in that filthy human's clutches, right? Unconditionally?"

Yukina nodded slowly. "Yes, I did."

Hiei nodded to her as well. "Then give me that same trust now. I'll be all right. I just have a score to settle."

"Y-you will be back, right?" Yukina asked as she worriedly stared at Hiei's hobbling stance.

He again looked her straight in the eyes, his demeanor determined, his gaze resolute. "Please trust me." He then disappeared-vanished without a trace, except for an unsaid promise and the unyielding trust of a loved one.

* * *

Hiei opened his crimson eyes as the last statement echoed in his mind. He pulled something from the side of his strap-on boots, gingerly unwrapping the unknown object. His third eye shone a luminous green as he narrowed his two other eyes. 'It's all clear to me now, Yukina.'

The fire demon felt as though he were trapped in a prison-a cage far stronger than iron-created from broken promises and unfulfilled wishes. He felt Munashii's unyielding void influence his heart with annoying feelings of loneliness and despair; the bitter-cold winter gales that clawed at his worn, frayed outfit certainly didn't help matters.

Hiei looked up to the heavens. The panoply of twinkling stars that could still be seen in between the patches of gray sky were spread out before him, serving a silent witnesses. 'A star's death indeed,' he mused to himself.

Nimbus clouds blanketed the bejeweled heavenly bodies as sleet and freezing rain showered the landscape.

Hiei's eyes affixed themselves on the tall, armored being. The man... if he could be called that... was an entity that shouldn't exist but did so anyway. If anything, the diminutive youkai really did stand there alone in the park.

The wind and rain battered him, threatening to indiscriminately send him into puddles of muck forming all around. Oblivious, he defiantly stood just meters away from his emotionless opponent.

"Your actions make no sense to me," Munashii bleakly related. "You fight even though you do not need to fight. You claim to fight for the kitsune even though you are in fact fighting against him and his wishes. You have long searched for your sister yet once you found her, you've distanced yourself from her. I don't understand you at all, koorime."

"What I don't understand is why you keep on calling me 'koorime,'" Hiei spat, his eyes darting back and forth at the mention of his unacknowledged sibling. "I'm a jaganshi. I'm a fire demon. I am not an ice maiden."

"I call you koorime because you are koorime. You were born koorime and you have koorime blood. In the same way, Urameshi Yusuke is still human and will always be human despite his mazoku lineage," Munashii explained equably.

"Yusuke wasn't betrayed by his own people," Hiei retorted.

"But of course. You hate koorime. Yet despite that, you spared all of them when you finally found the Land of Koorime. You didn't even bother finding the elders responsible for your banishment from your homeland. Why?"

"Who cares?" was Hiei's reply, but oddly enough, Kuwabara's irritating voice found its way into his troubled mind, providing him with a different answer.

"Not all humans are bad; among them are also good ones, so please don't hate all humans," was what the irksome human said to Yukina after her rescue.

Hiei pondered the human's words. In his mind, he could almost imagine Yukina saying the same words to him, only somehow different.

"Please don't hate all koorime."

"So that's the truth. You cannot kill even one koorime because you care too much for your koorime sister. You'll do anything for her. In fact, I believe you made an important promise to her before you left the old woman's dojo months ago. Isn't that right, koorime-san?" Munashii reckoned morosely, which made Hiei silently curse the undead one's telepathic abilities.

"Humph," Hiei snorted. "Enough of this pointless chatter."

"Very well. Mugen-Gan," Munashii stated, aiming his pointer finger at the jaganshi and firing with point blank accuracy.

A shaft of darkness pierced through the forbidden child's chest just as he began to move. His body afterwards faded away like a shadow amidst the onset of daybreak.

Munashii's deadened eyes narrowed. He missed his shot. "...Koorime."

Apparently, Hiei had already started his barely detectable charge.

The youkai trudged through the crusted mud as icy bullets of rain descended, creating a morass of slush that was once pristine snow. In seconds, he was drenched and chilled to the bones.

Hiei resisted the urge to shiver. He was a fire demon; fire demons didn't shiver. He shouldn't be feeling cold. That was what he had told Yukina, after all. He ignored the piercing numbness, even though it felt strangely comforting to him.

Munashii, on the other hand, didn't even seem all that fazed by the arctic squall. Unperturbed, he slowly traced his index finger in the air as it followed Hiei's flitting movements; like a gun aimed at a moving target.

Hiei rushed towards the impassive puppet with little to no hesitation just as the third Mugen-Gan shot was fired.

A fraction of a second later, Hiei's world exploded.

* * *

Yukina stared at the dancing flakes of snow, sighing nostalgically. The gentle, enigmatic waltz reminded her so much of home. The sparkling pinpoints of light in the cloudy night sky made the scene somewhat surreal, but it was still quite the pleasant fantasy nonetheless.

The serene spectacle soon became tempestuous as a cruel wind grazed the soft-spoken girl's skin. She shivered in guilty delight.

"Yukina, come back inside. You'll catch a cold," came Genkai's mild admonition.

The aqua-haired snow woman giggled daintily. "It's all right, Genkai-baasan. I believe koorime are immune to that particular Human World disease."

Nimbus clouds blanketed the bejeweled heavenly bodies as sleet and freezing rain replaced the floating snowflakes, soaking the ice maiden.

"Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting. Still, come inside, quick!" Genkai insisted, ushering the young girl into her abode. "I can't imagine anyone who could put up with this ice-cold rain. Come on in, child. You're getting drenched."

"I'm fine, really. This is kind of like a refreshing shower to koorime, actually," Yukina shyly pledged as she traipsed over the sludge and slush, diffidently evading Genkai's pursuit.

"All right, all right. Go ahead and play in the freezing rain, if that's what you want," Genkai consented, a complacent smile quirking at the corners of her lips. "Perhaps I'd be just as relaxed as you if this rain was as warm as a hot spring. It never ceases to amaze me how you treat the numbing cold like a refreshing breeze."

Yukina could only beam happily in response as her mind wandered elsewhere, eased by the soothing winter sleet.

* * *

Hiei's whole world quickly whirled into frenzy as a sudden pain tore through the very center of his soul. It erupted from every part of his body, leaking through the pores of his skin like acid. But what really sent him on edge was the empty, numb feeling he had after the brief yet excruciating lance of torture. He fought against the weightless trance with all the inner strength he could muster as he finally discerned the oncoming fist headed straight for him.

Munashii charged towards the spot Hiei had been only a moment earlier, retracting his fist when he realized his intended target had vanished, but unable to halt his forward momentum as he crashed into a nearby tree.

'The Mugen-Gan made a direct hit with the koorime, but he still lives,' Munashii surmised apathetically as he dislodged himself from the splintered tree trunk. 'Not for long, though.'

After a while, the nimble jaganshi slowed down to a more visible speed as the aftereffects of the Mugen-Gan came about. A few minutes later, he slumped down on a mush of snow, totally spent.

Hiei had finally gone above and beyond his limits. Every part of his battered, slashed, and broken body ached ached from the effort he just exerted in his last ditch effort to save the idiot kitsune's life and to keep his promise to... a very important person.

In a little while, the tempest from before abated; the subzero downpour was quickly replaced by a light drizzle and a speckle of snowflakes. "You have nowhere to hide, koorime. The weather that you favor the most has settled down. Your blanket of protection is gone."

A broken piece of his katana... the katana that Youko Kurama shattered just a short time ago... clattered on the frozen ground.

Hiei's various other injuries now came into his attention as the anesthetic numbness of his body subsided. The gaping hole in his chest, the claw marks that exposed his ribs, his torn-up gut, and his countless cuts and bruises all sang a simultaneous cacophony of agony.

* * *

What did the cold, unforgiving, yet comforting weather remind Yukina of? The cold, unforgiving yet comforting Hiei, of course.

The young koorime stared at the growing morass, looking intently at the pools of slosh but not truly looking at them in the true sense of the word.

Hiei was a fire demon that continued to be an enigma to Yukina; a puzzle to be solved. He remained a stranger to her, much to her dismay. She was always kept at bay and pushed away by the black-clad youkai's seeming aloofness towards her. Whether near or far, with his mistress Mukuro or not, she had yet to truly reach out to him.

He was there, somewhere; lost, but should be found again. He was in a chasm deeper than the one he was thrown into as a baby-a deeper, unreachable, bottomless chasm.

Yukina blinked. 'Oh my, I have to stop thinking such weird thoughts,' she ruminated sheepishly. 'I'm mixing my brother up with Hiei-san!'

Brother; such a meaningful term. He was also a mystery. He was also a stranger to her. But she was sure that he was a great demon, a brave and honorable warrior-just like Hiei.

She deeply missed Hiei; almost as much as she missed her brother. If only he could just... reach out... then he wouldn't seem so distant. But still, even if he couldn't, it would be okay with her. All she really needed to know was that he was safe, and that would be enough for her.

* * *

"It is unfortunate, but my master's will must be done at all costs," Munashii morosely disclosed. "At the very least, the kitsune understands this."

Hiei looked languidly at the undead pawn, his small crimson eyes, for a change, reflecting apathy worthy of the chain-mail armored bishonen. His vision slowly failing, he made a strange declaration.

"I saw it."

"What nonsense are you trying to pull?" Munashii questioned sullenly. "Your looming death has affected your brain. What did your desperate eyes see?"

Hiei nearly fell again as he tried to stand up, much to his frustration. He had to face facts; the lethal force of the Mugen-Gan was gradually killing him inside, while his bruises and fractures weren't going to heal anytime soon.

The jaganshi was dying-just like in his fight with Shigure. But still, undeterred, he chanted, "I saw it. I saw the wound that I gave you a while back."

"What you say makes no sense at all, koorime. What wound? You cannot hurt me. You cannot even touch me."

"I saw it with my third eye."

Then there came a ripping sound; a horrid squeal of tearing far beyond that of life evanescent that soon erupted into a lethal fury no one could even begin to comprehend.

"Even now, I can still see it."

Reminiscent to what happened to him during his fight with Yusuke earlier, Munashii's upper-left breast up to most of his left shoulder shattered like fragile glass. His body subsequently convulsed, as if he were being electrocuted. Strangely enough, his face remained eerily calm throughout the whole quandary.

"What is this?" the nonentity evenly asked.

"That's the wound I gave you back in the old woman's dojo, while you were still in the idiot human's body." Hiei smirked. "And I opened it up again with my broken blade."

Munashii struggled to regain control of his epileptic body. "I see. You've cut through something that cannot be cut. Twice. Such is the power of free will. A puppet is helpless against such power. But is your will strong enough to go against my master's will?"

Hiei struggled to speak as the blurry darkness neared the corners of his eyes. "I-I don't care about Minamino Shuichi's will. It's... the fox who I want. He is... m-mine. No one else can claim my life but him and him alone!"

"The kitsune's will is also Minamino Shuichi's will. He was the one who planned everything from the very beginning. Why do this, koorime? Why save the kitsune when he himself _wants_ to bring Minamino Shuichi back?" Munashii demanded, repeating his earlier questions.

"It's because he's an idiot," Hiei hissed as he tried desperately to catch up with his breath. "He has no say in all of this. H-He... has forfeited his right to decide his fate by making such a moronic decision. He doesn't know what he truly wants. If he did," he paused, coughing slightly, "then he wouldn't be doing any of this nonsense."

"Is that so? So which do you prefer, koorime? Dying in the hands of the kitsune or keeping your promise to your koorime sister by staying alive?" Munashii inquired solemnly. "It's your actions that do not make sense. You cannot serve two masters at the same time. Your will contradicts your promise. So which shall it be?"

"Both," Hiei said in monosyllabic simplicity.

"In the end, words are just words," Munashii said, adding, "In a few minutes, you'll be dead, and you can do little else but be dead. By dying, you won't be able to fulfill your will and your promise."

"T-Then watch me do it. Heaven and hell, puppet," were the last words Hiei rasped.

"So be it."

With fingernails as sharp as shards of glass, he tore open his chest cavity. His body convulsing uncontrollably, he used the remnants of his powers to widen the rift within his shattered soul.

'What the hell are you doing, shadow man?' Hiei exclaimed in his mind.

'Giving you your heaven and hell,' Munashii mentally replied as his body literally collapsed within itself. 'Enjoy.'

His emptiness imploded in a vortex of chaos and desolation moments later.

* * *

'I wonder what else my brother and Hiei-san have in common,' Yukina mused, brushing her damp bangs back thoughtfully while adding, "I wonder if he finds the cold comforting too, like I do."

"But of course. You two are brother and sister."

Despite the wintry iciness of the rain, Yukina's face looked rather flushed. "Y-Yes, I'm sure my brother would, but what about Hiei-san? H-He is a fire demon, right? Fire demons react to the cold differently, I suppose."

There was a pause. Genkai chuckled. "You're still waiting for him to come back, aren't you?"

"He will! Of course he will. He promised," Yukina almost immediately exclaimed before trailing off, realizing that Genkai was asking an altogether different question from the one she had in mind. She nodded numbly.

There came the gentle, nearly imperceptible tinkling; like a wind chime.

Yukina subsequently trembled, as if the cold had finally affected her. Wide-eyed, she looked behind her in evident concern.

Genkai stared inquisitively at the apparently stunned koorime. "What's the matter, Yukina? Is something wrong?"

Yukina pointed dazedly at the shadows of the trees, her features a mixture of joy and uncertainty. There was a lone, diminutive silhouette just beyond the courtyard, near the lengthy concrete stairs.

Her voice nearly choked with emotion, Yukina inquired, "Hiei-san?"

* * *

'I already had, as the kitsune called it, a "star's death." I have already experienced the beautiful supernova he so desired... and here's the end result. This is all that's left of me; my black hole of lament.'

As the intense gravitational field from within the core of the shadow man's broken ghost collapsed inward, a highly compressed and extremely massive maelstrom immediately formed. Its gravity was so strong that what little light was there in the park could not escape its grasp. The implosion subsequently consumed the entirety of the pallid plaza, Hiei included.

Feeling the intense agony that added even more exhaustion to his already fatigued self, Hiei bit his lip as his body was helplessly vacuumed into the wild abyss.

Like the womb of nature rupturing from the inside, the anomaly that was Munashii's void not so much destroyed as turned everything in its path into absolute oblivion; an unnatural, physics-defying pandemonium that sought to undo all of creation.

Whole, island-sized blocks of land were shattered into small shards of rocks and stone by the whirling inverse vortex of doom. Hiei watched in dread as the intense pressure from the barrage threatened to turn him into a demon puree, if he was lucky. It was the last thing his ruby eyes saw before his sight was robbed from him altogether.

In a little while, the only things the jaganshi could see with his sightlessness were multicolored blurs. These were abruptly replaced by flashes of electricity that sent currents of crippling pain all over his diminutive body.

There was another flicker of unforgiving pain. The fire demon's body buckled under the enormous pressure of his foe's prodigious assault. He was tossed around helplessly in the chasm like a soggy piece of cloth inside a gigantic washing machine.

* * *

"Hiei-san? Is that you? Who's there?" Yukina called out timorously as she approached the somewhat recognizable silhouette. The sleet and rain had already subsided, so she should be able to catch sight of whoever or whatever was behind the shadows of the leaf-barren trees.

She hoped and prayed that the familiar shadow belonged to the person she thought it belonged, but her anticipation was all for naught. By the time she had gotten closer, the figure had vanished.

Was it just wishful thinking? She could have sworn that there was someone over that direction. She was about to return to Genkai's abode to reassure the old lady of her well being when something she saw in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

It was a lustrous, glossy something, tied to a tree branch. As the wind played with the shiny object, it swayed back and forth, glinting... like a guillotine.

* * *

The koorime-born halfling doubted that he had enough power to come forward with one last strike or enough strength to move amidst the dark cyclone.

He didn't need to, though.

Hiei's glassy eyes could not see a thing, but his jagan's vision remained crystal clear. Opening it up for one last time, he again saw it; the wound that tore through the edges of Munashii's hollowness.

His jagan aflame, he summoned the remnants of his brothers of fire... each and every one of them... from the very depths of Munashii's cracked spirit.

A firestorm of black flames in the guise of demonic dragon spirits violently escaped from the lesion of the black hole. The shadow man was helpless against the creatures of pure fire as they blasted through his shoulder, one after the other.

* * *

Yukina untied the bejeweled necklace off the tree branch, her scarlet eyes twinkling in recognition. These two tear gems meant a lot to her; they were special gemstones, her mother's legacy to her.

The ice maiden gently traced her finger on the pair of pearly jewels. 'These are the hiruiseki mother cried after I was born; after _we_ were born.'

"Big brother..."

He was always so headstrong and stubborn. Botan had even described him as reckless. One thing for sure, he always went about things in a straightforward manner.

He promised that he would come back, and he did. He kept his promise.

The expression of melancholy was practically etched on Yukina's frail features, yet she did not cry; she did not sprinkle glittering gems all over herself like pixie dust. Not even one whimper escaped her lips.

"...Thank you. Thank you for keeping your promise."

She could not cry because she was happy, yet she could not smile because she was sad.

"Sayonara, nii-sama."

* * *

It didn't matter how or where Yusuke dodged; the Jigen Tou was laser-precise in cutting him up. Couple that with the speed Kuwabara was swinging the ki-blade, and Yusuke had no chance of escaping its wrath. Space and dimension were of no consequence to the Dimension Sword, and neither was distance. The reach of the Jigen Tou's strikes was wholly up to Kuwabara, and there was little the half-demon could do about it.

"You were asking me what technique I'm going to use now, right?" Yusuke harrumphed as he gingerly rose to his feet. "I think I'll just go nuts and use them all. Think fast." The sleek-haired boy became a blur as he renewed his assault, firing several shots of the beam variety of his Shot Gun.

One step. Two steps.

Predictably, Kuwabara sliced through the torrent of energy using the combined powers of his Jigen Tou and Munashii's Mugen Tou. Of course, the whole thing was just a ruse for Yusuke to get near his quarry.

Three steps. Four steps.

Then came the curved waves of the Rei-Kou-Dan from Yusuke's other fist. The energy spheres coalesced with the previous shafts of light, their combined glare slightly blinding the tall, chain-mail armored boy.

Five steps. Six steps.

Yusuke hid behind the edge of the choleric arc, away from Kuwabara's field of vision. Pacing himself, he followed the trail of the last Rei-Kou-Dan shot, edging closer and closer to his most persistent rival.

Seven steps. Eight steps.

Yusuke did a zigzag of steps, escaping several key strikes from the Jigen Tou. Feinting to the right and then charging to the left in a split-second, the half-demon was able to make Kuwabara hesitate at the last possible moment.

Nine steps. Final step.

Taking an extra step to ensure that he was within Kuwabara's blind spot, Yusuke attacked in an awkward angle, the ground under his feet buckling under the weight of his impassioned strike.

Reiki exploded everywhere, practically burying Kuwabara in an avalanche pure spiritual power. The ginger-haired teen's head snapped, the whiplash nearly breaking his head. Giving him no chance to recover, Yusuke followed through his previous offensive with an equally devastating, reiki-filled punch.

Still, Kuwabara had already seen the attack before. Piercing Yusuke's heartless chest with the Mugen Tou, he stopped the half-demon's expected follow-up attack cold.

Yusuke winced as he plunged into the sword of emptiness. Consequently, his previous lung problems were aggravated; each breath he took felt like he was breathing in pieces of molten glass.

Strange thing was, Yusuke was grinning like a demented lovechild of a shark and a hyena despite being stabbed by the soul-rendering blade of death. The message was clear: He expected Kuwabara's counterattack.

"JYU REI JYOU ANTE!" the spirit detective managed to shout in spite of his respiratory problems, wheezing as he fought against exhaustion.

The Spirit Detective's Luminescent Spirit Ante shone like a second sun, the tendrils of energy forming into a flaming blue firebird that was strangely reminiscent of Yusuke's spirit animal, Puu; it gave the half-demon so much energy it cancelled out the life-absorbing powers of the Infinity Sword.

It didn't end there, obviously.

Just as Yusuke aimed his fully charged Rei-Gan at Kuwabara's face, Kuwabara swung his barrier-cutting Jigen Tou at Yusuke's neck. It was the perfect stalemate.

"..." the two Spirit Detectives chorused as an uncomfortable hush passed them in an unhurried pace.

After a short while, Kuwabara mirrored Yusuke's maniacal grin.

"Looks like we're in a bit of a fix here," Yusuke remarked, guffawing a bit as he eyed the glowing energy blade just inches away from his neck.

"I'd say. If I move any further to clop your head off, you'll blast mine to smithereens. It's officially a deadlock," Kuwabara said with a self-satisfied smirk, as if he was bragging of some great victory.

"Cool. Deadlock." Yusuke paused as a thought occurred to him. "So what do we now?"

Kuwabara blinked soundly. "Eh?"

The duo again fell silent for perpetuity contained within an awkward moment as they pondered their current situation.

"Hey, I have an idea! What do you say we let go of each other's throats on the count of three?" Yusuke suggested grinningly, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. "Y'know, so we can enjoy our li'l tussle a bit longer."

"Wait a second. How can I be sure that you're not going to pull a fast one on me?" Kuwabara demanded, frowning. "For all I know, you could be bluffing, and I'll be getting the short end of the stick; and for all you know, I'd be clopping your head off anyway."

Yusuke thought for all of three seconds. "You know what? Whatever. Let's risk it. One."

Kuwabara snorted, chortling. "Two."

"Three!"

The two combatants relinquished their hold over each other at the same time. Once they were apart, Yusuke laughed. He laughed long and hard. He laughed like a lunatic, a raving madman.

"STOP LAUGHING! Why do you keep on laughing, anyway? Is that your new technique; to laugh your ass off before offing your enemies?" Kuwabara challenged, finally noticing the strange new habit Yusuke developed.

"So you really _were_ holding back, huh?" Yusuke surmised as he chuckled heartily. "And now you're using your full power. That's good."

Kuwabara half-snorted and half-sneered. "So I suppose you're going to tell me that you were also holding back and you're now going to use your full power. Ain't that right, Urameshi?"

"You're a dumbass," Yusuke blurted out in all frankness. "Didn't you know that I've never held back on you in any of our fights? That's the reason you lost."

Kuwabara didn't quite know what to say to that.

Yusuke grinned with careless abandon. "One hundred percent of my power all the way, Kuwabara. It's all or nothing."

"Fine then. All or nothing."

"Then we finally understand each other."

Calling upon all his remaining power from the center of his unbreakable spirit, Yusuke began charging up not one, but two of his pointer fingers with concentrated reiki. "Eat this, Kuwabara; RENSHYAA!"

* * *

Kurama opened his eyes. They were greeted by obscurity. It was disorienting, as if he were standing on a rocking ship traveling over the rolling sea.

"You are both nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Welcome to the realm that lies in between the Spirit World and the Human World."

Apparently somebody had bothered to answer some of Kurama's questions before he had a chance to air them. The voice was familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. 'Strange,' Kurama thought as he concentrated on sensing the ki of the disembodied speaker and feeling the rest of his surroundings; a centuries-old habit of his. 'I wonder who could it...?'

"..."

His eyebrows furrowed, Kurama focused a bit more. He struggled to find his center of calm. He found none. He soon gasped in alarm.

He couldn't feel anything at all.

Perturbed, the kitsune struggled to get up, pawing at what he thought was the ground. He again felt nothing. Either there was no ground underneath him in the first place and he was floating in midair, or his hands and limbs went completely numb during the time he was unconscious.

He again gasped, noticing that something else was amiss. His gasp; something was wrong with his gasp.

He clinically examined each breath he took, each and every inhalation and exhalation. He then held his breath.

Other than feeling a bit strange, he seemed perfectly fine holding his breath for approximately ten minutes straight without any sign of suffocating.

Curious, Kurama continued his breathing. It was quite easy; instinctual, even. Or was it just out of habit?

He took note of the air... or lack thereof... that actually entered his nostrils. Out of instinct and habit, he was gasping for air he that couldn't breathe. His lungs, if he still had any, were being filled with a whole lot of nothing.

What was going on?

'I'm dead,' Kurama resolutely concluded, without a hint of regret or sadness on his determined face. 'Munashii killed me. Or rather, he helped me kill myself, for Asuka's sake. I'm a ghost now.'

"Half-right, kitsune. You are only half-dead. The link between spirit and body has not been completely severed."

Kurama finally recognized the voice. It was deader and more cadaverous than he probably was at the moment. He shook his head as if to clear it of such morbid thoughts, turning towards the cloaked and armor-clad figure behind him.

"Munashii?"

His eyes widened in shock at the current state of his eternally damned captor. The undead one's cloak, which billowed against an unseen wind, was frayed, shorn, and threadbare. The remnants of his armor had countless cracks on it, not unlike an ancient ruin. Bizarrely enough, the nonentity's face was also covered in a web of cracks.

"Again, you are only half-right." Munashii gently cradled his left shoulder; what was left of it. His spectral void was slowly but surely tearing his whole body apart. "That is not my true name. You're referring to Enma Daio's puppet, the shinigami that murders souls."

"A god of death," Kurama reiterated thoughtfully. The red-haired boy was obliged to make a great mental effort in understanding the meaning of his companion's words, without any assistance.

"I see. You haven't murdered any souls for quite a number of years, have you?" Kurama said, not asked.

"Yes. For nearly sixteen years."

His eyes narrowed, Kurama interrogated, "You stopped doing Enma's bidding twenty years ago? You mean around the time Minamino Shuichi was conceived?" Another thought occurred to him. "Have we met before? Did we meet when I was about to inhabit Asuka-san's reincarnated body?"

Bowing courteously, the former shinigami greeted, "It's nice to meet you again after all these years, Kurama. I am Tetsuma Yoshitaka, the Reikai Hunter."

* * *

The Renshyaa was neither a move Yusuke developed through rigorous training nor a technique he learned from Genkai. He wasn't even the one who named it. It was something he improvised in the spur of the moment, during his heated battle with Chuu in the first round of the Ankoku Bujutsukai. It was a skill whose origins reflected his rambunctious, impulsive, and spontaneous personality.

He first heard the made-up name from his demon friends back in the Dark Tournament who had heard it from the feline announcer Koto. The moniker was supposed to refer to the continuous and inexhaustible Spirit Gun technique that he'd also used against Yomi's impenetrable Renpa-Hanshyou-Heki.

Using youki, the rapid-fire maneuver was completely ineffective against Yomi's force field. With reiki, however, the blind fighter didn't even stand a chance.

Today, he was about to use both reiki and youki versions of his Renshyaa together, with both hands. 'You've gotten me kind of excited, Kuwabara. Let's see how far we can take this duel of ours.'

Comet-like blasts of spiritual light and energy burned across the whole stretch of the graveyard, hitting and breaking through tombstones like they were made out of brittle chalk.

Kuwabara sneered as he crossed his arms over his chest, bracing himself for the oncoming bursts of pure power. Seconds before impact, he did intricate movements with his two swords, forming a continuous, horizontal figure eight that shielded him from the explosive onslaught.

Yusuke didn't even flinch as Kuwabara hacked through his offensive, none the worse for wear. This didn't bother the Spirit Detective leader in the least because he followed up his assault with choleric waves of piercing demonic power, one after another. Blazes of incredible vigor burned through the trail of the previous blasts, this time filled with sweltering, blood-red youki.

The brilliance of blast after awesome blast burned through the two combatants' minds. Enjoying himself immensely, Yusuke passionately continued his feverish attack.

However, as soon as the explosions started, they ceased.

Kuwabara peered through the clouds of debris in curiosity, his eyes wide in confusion. He scowled. "Here we go again; the damn unpredictable Urameshi. What's the big idea, stopping like that?"

In due course, the dust finally cleared, revealing the steadfast form of Kuwabara's greatest rival. Yusuke kept his pointer fingers steadily aimed at his intended prey, he collected all his remaining reiki and youki into two separate balls of concentrated energy; two fiery Double Berreta Rei-Gans in the making.

A second passed, followed by a minute. Aside from the fact that Yusuke's fingers were currently emitting sounds reminiscent of an analog synthesizer being tuned, there was nothing but dead silence.

"Hello? Human World to Urameshi?" Kuwabara taunted. "What are you waiting for? Christmas? The Second Coming? Self-Enlightenment? Nirvana? Get a hint. I thought you hated beating around the bush."

Yusuke Urameshi smirked impishly as he maintained his stance. "Yeah? Well, you're lame. Literally. You aren't exactly light on your feet now, are you? I can take my sweet time charging these two babies up."

The armored teenager chortled. "Oh, I get it. It's like what happened during our li'l deadlock earlier. _You_ expect _me_ to sit around with my thumb up my butt because of some bullshit sense of honor while you try and power up your shit for a good seven months or so." He laughed in the same manner Yusuke did only moments ago.

"So... you won't?" Yusuke wondered.

"FUCK YOU! Of course I won't! I ain't no samurai. I'm a punk."

Yusuke snidely huffed as he flipped his sharp bangs with the back of one hand. "Hey, if you really want to stop me from firing at you, then cut my fingers off... if you're man enough. Or would you rather whine some more?"

"I ain't no pansy, either. Come and get some." Taking full advantage of his weapon's unmatched reach, Kuwabara rapidly swung his Jigen Tou in a myriad of circular patterns that superimposed and juxtaposed each other.

Wreckage, rubble, and debris were flung around like so much dust in the wind, the dirt and rocks of the necropolis easily giving way to the Dimension Sword's incursions. The ground was quickly grinded to dust, crushed like a block of ice inside a blender as the whirling dervish of Kuwabara's unavoidable attack headed straight for the impetuous Urameshi.

* * *

_Sixteen years ago..._

Seated on a gigantic chair within what appeared to be a very spacious, monumental version of the main office of a person with a high-ranking position was the imposing figure of Enma Daio, the Lord of the Dead.

"I've rarely been able to visit the Spirit World ever since Koenma took over, but it's just as well. As long as everything goes according to my original plans, he can play 'Administrative Assistant' as long as he wants." The gargantuan, bearded, and bespectacled deity chuckled humorlessly. "I'm practically retired now, but I'm still a very busy god."

He was the most powerful being in the Spirit World, author of the Book of Fate and Supreme Judge over all souls. He had carefully outlined and laid-out the final fate of every living being within the aforesaid tome. Reincarnation. Rebirth. Perpetual Peace. Eternal Damnation. All of these ultimate destinies were in the palm of his colossal hand. He was everyone's Divine Providence in a way.

In short, he was the one who decided the fate of all souls; even broken ones.

"Puppet," came Enma Daio's stentorian call as his booming voice reverberated inside the gigantic room. Hearing no response, he insistently beckoned, "Shinigami Tetsuma."

"What is your will, master?" the cloaked and armored creature grimly assented, appearing out of nowhere.

"I know it has been a long time, but I have a very important mission for you today," Enma Daio explained evenly. He eyed his pawn in fascination.

"It has been hundreds of years since you first started serving your sentence," Enma Daio thoughtfully began, adding, "Imagine, going through permanent, self-induced exile for the crimes you did against the Spirit World. I wouldn't have thought of a more fitting punishment myself." The elder god's features were unreadable, masked by the glare of his enormous glasses.

"A shattered soul. There's no other punishment more fitting for the likes of you."

His head bowed down while genuflecting, Enma Daio's peon remained submissive. "If you would please relay your command to your humble servant..."

"Patience, patience," Enma Daio waved off, unwilling to discontinue his extensive soliloquy. "I must say that I was impressed by your last 'performance' as a miracle boy. Matsui Asuka was just another peasant girl among hundreds of peasant girls, and she had the same fate as many of those girls... until you came. You were able to help her elude her simple destiny. Without you she would have led a happier, rustic life. Without you, she would have peacefully passed on, to be reborn as..."

Tetsuma's head shot up in uncharacteristic determination. "As who? Who will she be reborn as?"

Enma Daio scowled as he raised his mighty hand. Balling it up into a fist, it brimmed with celestial energy. "AND YOU THINK YOU DESERVE TO KNOW?" he bellowed. In seconds, the remnants of Tetsuma's shattered soul gradually dispersed into nothingness. "You, the cheater of death? You, the enemy of nature? You, who played the role of both life-giver and executioner? You have destroyed the Book of Fate's grand scheme and design. Don't think that you do not deserve the punishment you've brought upon yourself."

Tetsuma held his gaze steadily at Enma Daio, his sentences clipped and purposeful. "Though I will... continue to serve y-you as long as I could, I don't do... this for the Book of Fate's sake."

"Blasphemy. I am the Lord of the Dead, and as long as there are remnants of your ghost trapped in that lifeless shell, I will do as I please with you. Learn your place."

"I c-couldn't care less about... the fate of this broken ghost either. You a-are my master not because of your hold on my soul, b-but because of your hold on... Asuka's ultimate fate."

Enma Daio snorted in disdain as he loosened his hold on the bits and pieces of Tetsuma's spirit. "But of course. This really is a 'self-induced exile,' isn't it, puppet? You've faithfully served me these countless years, all for the girl's sake. Even though you know that she'll be stillborn, do you still want to see her inevitably tragic reincarnation?"

Tetsuma nodded.

Exhaling vociferously, the God of the Spirit World declared, "Very well. After you complete this latest mission, I will tell you all you need to know about Matsui Asuka's reincarnated self, just as your contract says."

"Words cannot express my gratitude, master."

Enma Daio was considered many things, but he wasn't one who would back out on a contract. In the end, he was all about policies, rules, and laws. Sighing, he summoned another one of his trusted angels of death.

"Shinigami Ayame. How long have you been in here?"

"For quite a while, Lord Enma. Many pardons, sir," apologized the indistinct, ghostly woman dressed in a black kimono as she emerged from the shadows. "I didn't want to intrude on your conversation."

Enma Daio harrumphed in slight annoyance. "In any case, it's good that we're all here. We have a lot to discuss. But first thing's first: Our initial order of business is Koenma Daio's current status as the Acting Administrator of the Spirit World. Ayame, report."

"The experimental filing system that Koenma-sama adopted from the Human World Stock Exchange as our current mode of operation has finally been implemented, replacing our centuries-old use of the River Styx's ferry system. It has somewhat made things a bit more complicated than simpler in terms of moving the souls to their final destination, but Koenma-sama insists that once the system gets streamlined, there would be fewer problems concerning soul dispatch. And he is striving to-"

Enma Daio raised an eyebrow. "'Striving,' you say? You're not letting your personal feelings affect your work now, are you?"

"No, of course not," Ayame hastily denied, her features a stony mask of tranquility and assuredness.

The deity of death shifted his substantial mass and leaned towards Ayame, his humongous eyes boring bottomless holes at the cool-headed ferry-girl. "Understand this. Because of Koenma's 'leadership', the Spirit World nowadays has become too soft and protective of the humans; like a lazy parent who indulges his child's capricious whims instead of disciplining him. Humans need structure and direction from the Reikai, not coddling and lenience."

"I understand. I will keep a closer eye on the effectiveness of Koenma-sama's filing system."

"No, let him keep it," Enma Daio offhandedly said as he rubbed his bearded chin. "His administrative position is like a shiny bauble to an impatient child. It's something to distract him with while I do the _real_ work. Just make sure that his 'system' won't cause things to become far too chaotic."

"Understood, Lord Enma."

Enma Daio contemplated the situation further. "What of the mazoku dilemma?"

"At present, there is a one in a million chance that the current human descendants of the mazoku will manifest their latent demonic powers. It is generally believed that the mazoku blood has actually become less and less potent with each succeeding descendant."

"Watered-down demon blood? If only it were that simple. A one in a million chance is still too high a risk to take. If it were possible, I would wipe out that damned demonic lineage before they became a real nuisance; but that'd cause serious repercussions to the Natural Order." He stared at Tetsuma meaningfully. "And as we all know, the consequences of messing with the Natural Order is far from just catastrophic."

"Of course, master."

The Lord of Death smirked as he shifted his attention back to Ayame. "And the current state of the Makai?"

"Information pertaining to the Demon World is out of my jurisdiction, Lord Enma," Ayame calmly stated. Ever since the Meikai Incident, the Reikai lost nearly all authority over most of Makai activities. Because of this, the Makai had consistently become the root of all the Reikai's problems for many centuries. "Though I've heard that, to keep the Makai in line, Koenma-sama has proposed to make use of the Reikai Tantei to..."

"Feh. His little Spirit Detectives? What could they possibly do? The shinigami and the Reikai Defense Team should be enough to keep watch over Demon World activity." Enma Daio pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

"Well, concerning that, we've recently located a potential Spirit Detective with extraordinary powers. He's a child prodigy, a Class-A at the age of ten. As of now, he is certainly a match against any of the members of the Reikai Defense Team."

A strange layer of emotion seemed to stir inside Enma Daio, lying somewhere below his face but not affecting the muscles of his skin. "Oh, yes. Him. Has Koenma been keeping track of the boy's progress?"

"Yes, Lord Enma."

"Good. Keep me updated on him in the future." Coughing slightly, Enma Daio shifted the conversation back to the original subject. "Actually, the current state of the Makai is partly the reason why we're having this meeting and mission briefing in the first place."

Enma Daio's features became grimmer and dourer, if that were possible. "This is an unofficial, confidential mission. You both know what that means. You both know what you're supposed to do."

"Understood, Lord Enma."

"Yes, master."

"Shinigami Tetsuma, do you know why demons exist? Why humans exist? Why shinigami such as yourself exist?"

"I don't."

"It's really simple. Demons exist to glorify the gods by acting out the role of villain and antagonist. Shinigami are the deliverers of the spirits and the hunters of the demons. Humans are the sheep and cattle of both god and demon. This is how things are, and the world will keep on spinning so long as people perform their designated roles."

Since time immemorial, Enma Daio kept the balance between life and death in check. He went about his work in a systematic and methodical fashion, in line with how things were supposed to be: The Natural Order.

The Natural Order was one of the primary reasons for the existence of the Book of Fate, the ultimate compilation of ghost files where each and every soul of consequence and inconsequence were tallied, measured, and preemptively judged before they even breathed their first breath.

Basically, this meant that all human and demonic volitions were invariably determined by preexisting circumstances. It might take diverse forms, some cruder, some more refined, but basically all acts of choice were determined by a person's god-given role plus the motives acting on him at the time.

It wasn't about "causeless volition" or "motiveless choice". It was about the Natural Order, and what would happen if the Natural Order wasn't followed.

According to the Book of Fate, humans were fated to become sheep, demons were fated to become wolves. The shepherd was Enma Daio and his sheep dogs were the shinigami. This was the Natural Order.

Of course, this wasn't always the case. "If man continued to act like man and demons continued to act like demons, then there wouldn't be a problem at all," Enma Daio explicated. "Unfortunately, pride and disobedience were in the way of paradise and perfect harmony."

Man was not content to be merely sheep and cattle. They also wanted to become shepherds and sheep dogs; even wolves. They were not given wings, yet they desired to fly. Such was the folly of mankind, the curse of Icarus.

Then there came the perverse wolves that were willing to deny their true nature for the sake of becoming one with the lambs of god. These wolves in sheep's clothing eventually became confused of their natural longing as they developed a repulsive lust for their inferiors. Acting on their unnatural desires, they fornicated with livestock, producing godless offspring that were neither human nor demon.

Enma Daio snorted in disgust, remembering the mazoku dilemma. "The Sengoku period was a dark and violent era. Ambition, greed, and hatred filled the hearts of man, which attracted the demons to the Human World like flies to a decaying carcass."

In the end, the shepherd was forced to take extreme measures, sacrificing a good number of his livestock as he hunted down, killed, and drove the wolves out of his territory. He then built a huge corral that kept his cattle away from the beasts' claws.

"Desperate times called for desperate measures. That's basically what the Dimensional Barrier is; a desperate measure. Without it, the humans would have become extinct." Not unlike the wildlife reserves for endangered species found in the Human World, the Human World itself was an expansive wildlife reserve for humans under the Spirit World's watchful protection.

Unfortunately, this desperate measure was also against the Natural Order. Because there were no more demons in the Human World, there was no one left to glorify the gods. At the dawn of this new era, the revered truths of the past became mere superstition to the humans, replaced by the new truths of science that only served to explain phenomena that occurred within their small plane of existence. The gods were eventually forgotten.

"Humans began to foolishly believe that they and they alone are the superior race among all races. Their era of modern 'enlightenment', undoubtedly, was the result of their sheer, shortsighted arrogance."

In the absence of demons, humans filled their need for conflict by becoming demons themselves. Man became man's greatest enemy. War became a means for humans to kill each other in the name of peace. By separating the humans from the demons, the human race became corrupt.

"It's time to purify the human race. It's time to reintroduce the predators to their natural prey, to restore the balance of the Natural Order. I now call upon you, Reikai Hunter."

Yoshitaka Tetsuma rose up from his kneeling position, pounding his closed fist on his breastplate as a sign of allegiance. "Just tell me his name, master, and I will hunt him down to the ends of the three worlds."

Enma Daio smirked. "He is known as the Legendary Youko Kurama."

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Munashi's end.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	18. Chapter 17: Death 3

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please. I'm very poor.

Because there is an end, there will always be a beginning. Otherwise, when nothing ends, then everything will drown in pointlessness.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Death (Part 3)**

* * *

Kurama dazedly gazed at Yoshitaka Tetsuma in astonishment as he reiterated the undead being's words.

"Reikai Hunter?" The half-youko ghost looked livid in disbelief. He couldn't believe his ears. "That can't be right! That's ridiculous!"

"Is it really that ridiculous? It's certainly more believable than a continuous string of unlikely coincidences. I was the one who hunted you down sixteen years past. I was the one who forced you to seek refuge in a human's body because of the mortal wound I gave you."

Kurama persisted, demanding, "But how could you be...?"

"How could I not be, kitsune?" A thought occurred to Tetsuma. "The koorime recently asked me why I kept calling him a koorime. To be quite frank, I found it foolish to call him otherwise. Do you know why I call you 'kitsune'?"

Kurama could only stare at Tetsuma in bafflement.

"It's because that's how I first saw you when I hunted you down; as a fox. As a white-furred, many-tailed..."

"That's enough, Yoshitaka-kun. That's... enough."

After much hesitation, Kurama finally relented. His possession of Shuichi Minamino's body, Tetsuma's real identity, and his youko self's desperate attempts at a glorious suicide were not mutually exclusive occurrences. The events were too intertwined and consistent to each other to be mere coincidence. Everything was making too much sense; he couldn't deny Tetsuma's allegations any longer.

Tetsuma could only nod as realization dawned in Kurama's eyes. "In hindsight, you really did deserve your legendary reputation. Absolutely no one can ever catch you unless you allow them to."

"But you did catch me-shot me, and nearly killed me, even. So I probably allowed you to catch me, didn't I?" Kurama reckoned.

Enma Daio could never find, much less catch, Youko Kurama on his own, so he instead decided to persuade the demon fox to voluntarily come to him. He issued the youko a challenge, daring him to confront and defeat the infamous "Reikai Hunter", one of his personal 'problem solvers', in a duel to the death in the Human World, a neutral ground where supposedly neither of the two factions had the advantage. He challenged him to walk into his obvious trap and then walk out of it alive.

Who was he, the legendary Youko Kurama, to pass up such a challenge?

"Enma Daio always said that pride was one of the things that separated man from beast and united humans and demons," Tetsuma recounted. "I guess what he said is true."

In order for the youko to enter the Human World despite the Spirit World's Dimensional Barrier, he had to transform himself into a low-level kitsune... and Enma Daio knew this. The Lord of the Dead had set his trap from the very beginning.

Still, the risk didn't bother Kurama in the least. He always did love a challenge. For him, it was just another adventure, much like his countless treasure hunts in the past. He could have rejected the Reikai's challenge on a whim, but there was more at stake than his capriciousness.

Researching extensively on Kurama's past, Enma Daio used his various networks to retrieve an item most dear to the former Makai thief.

'Kuronue's pendant.' If Kurama had said the words, he would have acerbically hissed them. The stakes were raised; if ever Youko Kurama won against the Reikai Hunter, he would then be awarded Kuronue's pendant as a grand prize of sorts. Enma Daio was truly relentless. In case he couldn't appeal to the youko's pride, he wouldn't hesitate to manipulate him through guilt.

From there, Kurama fully recalled the events that transpired that fateful night. He winced at the memory.

'Oh, how you mischievously jeered at the lowly human hunter who mistook you for an ordinary beast.' Kurama berated his youko self as a flood of memories washed away the haze in his mind.

The hunter apparently got lost in the fringes of Makai territory just as Kurama was about to enter the gates of the Dimensional Barrier. Occurrences like this were neither uncommon nor rare. At the time, there were roughly one hundred and twenty million humans living in the Demon World. They were bartered, traded, and consumed like cattle; they were also forced into hard labor. They, along with weak, C-level demons, made up the slave class of Makai.

The hunter followed the transformed kitsune all the way into the Human World. In retrospect, it seemed that Kurama actually did the lost human a favor; a wild goose chase was certainly a preferable fate to peonage.

"But the hunter wasn't the only one mistaken at the time," Tetsuma declared. "You weren't being hunted by an ordinary hunter either."

Kurama took a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. Finally, he was able to solve the puzzle that had plagued his existence as of late. "In the middle of his hunt, you possessed the body of the unwitting hunter in the same way you possessed Kuwabara-kun's body. You then imbued the bullets in his gun with your spectral void's power. I should have known. Everything was done according to your modus operandi. The whole setup had your name written all over it."

Tetsuma tacitly replied affirmative with a simple nod.

After a contemplative pause, Kurama asked, "Why did you hunt me down, Yoshitaka-kun?"

"Because Enma Daio ordered me to."

"Why did Enma Daio want me dead?"

"Enma Daio didn't want you dead. He wanted you to remain in the Human World."

The cogs and wheels inside Kurama's head started to turn as other pieces of the puzzle quickly fell into place. After Tetsuma's ambush, Kurama lost the ability to go back to his full youko form. In his weakened state, returning to the Demon World meant certain death in the hands of several hundred predators and higher-echelon demons. He had no choice but to stay in the Human World in his fox spirit form; just as Enma Daio planned.

"Let me guess," the kitsune surmised, snorting humorlessly, "The obsessive-compulsive Enma Daio wanted to bring about balance to his precious 'Natural Order' by bringing me into the Human World."

The half-youko shook his head in disgust. "And once I 'wreaked havoc' upon the weak and defenseless humans as revenge for being marooned in the Human World, either his Reikai Defense Team or Koenma's Reikai Tantei will spring into action and clean up the mess he made in the first place, all for the good name and glory of the Spirit World."

'So I got into this mess all because of celestial politics? By Inari.' Kurama again heaved a doleful sigh. "But you know what's ironic? That out of all the humans I could've possessed, I chose Matsui Asuka's reincarnated body. Isn't that a strange coincidence?"

"There is no such thing as coincidence when you are involved."

Kurama looked at Tetsuma in bewilderment. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"You didn't exact your revenge as Enma Daio had planned; did you, kitsune?" Aren't you disturbed by the fact?" Tetsuma asked. "Youko Kurama, the cruel youko thief who masterminded the plot to kill his disobedient underling Yomi, did not seek revenge over Enma Daio's trickery? That does not sound like Youko Kurama at all."

Kurama's mind went back to the later parts of his discussion with Tetsuma.

"But you know what's ironic? That out of all the humans I could've possessed, I chose Matsui Asuka's reincarnated body. Isn't that a strange coincidence?"

"There is no such thing as coincidence when you are involved."

Then there came Kurama's epiphany.

"I didn't exact my revenge as Enma Daio planned, but I still got it." He gingerly stroked the ethereal bangs of Shuichi Minamino's scarlet hair in understanding. "I definitely got my revenge."

* * *

_Sixteen years ago..._

Youko Kurama's cold anger compelled him to move on despite his current condition. This wasn't over. Not yet.

'Reikai...'

He didn't think that the Spirit World would stoop so low as to attack his fox spirit form in such a treacherous manner. Apparently, he overestimated their so-called righteousness. They weren't as holy an organization as they would let on.

'The Reikai Hunter...'

For nearly a week, he had endured the torture of possessing body after body of many an unwitting human in half-hour intervals. It was a taxing endeavor to switch bodies forty-eight times a day, but he persevered. His pride demanded vengeance.

'The Reikai Hunter must pay. And I know how.'

Minutes after the youko's defeat, Enma Daio telepathically spoke to his prized shinigami, congratulating him on a job well done. By intercepting the psychic message, Kurama overheard everything he needed to know. 'Well done. You are now free. Now here's my end of the bargain: Her name is Minamino Shuichi,' Enma Daio had mentally declared.

On one hand, all Kurama had was a name that may or may not be of great significance to the creature who nearly killed him. On the other hand, he had worked with less information during his many heists as the legendary youko thief of Makai, yet he still managed to get the job done.

The youko had but one objective: Find Shuichi Minamino. 'Once I find her, I will also find him. Then I will have my revenge.'

And find her he did. One advantage of switching bodies every thirty minutes was that he could cover a lot of ground in so little time. Jumping from body to body, he looked up census records in several district offices, scoured every last phonebook and residency listing he could get his hands on, and basically stalked every last member of the Minamino family. Most of his searches were ultimately futile, but by the virtue of the process of elimination, every dead end led him closer and closer to Shuichi Minamino.

It was already late in the evening, and the body he was currently occupying was the thirty-ninth one for the day. Nevertheless, he was relentless. He would leave no stone unturned. Eyebrows furrowed, he gingerly leafed through the logbook of the receptionist he had just possessed. His borrowed body's eyes became mere slits as he squinted at the barely legible characters.

'Minamino... Shuichi?'

He read the characters again and shook his head.

'No, it's Shiori. Minamino Shiori.' He contemplatively paused. Afterwards, he shrugged. 'Close enough,' he thought just as he prepared to leave his host's body to hunt for his latest quarry.

* * *

After a long and arduous search, Yoshitaka Tetsuma finally found her.

All Enma Daio had given him was a name, but it was enough. In the same way he determinedly searched for Youko Kurama to the ends of the three worlds after only hearing his name, so would he to his precious Asuka's reincarnated self.

Shuichi Minamino.

Even though she was conceived just a few days back, she already had her name listed in the Book of Fate eons ago. Everything was going according to Enma Daio's predictions save for one thing: Shuichi Minamino's soulless rebirth.

By the time Tetsuma extracted Asuka's soul from his voracious void six hundred years past, it was already too late. Half of Asuka's life force was already gone. She had become a half-soul.

He couldn't do anything about, it in any case. A half-soul such as he possessed no will of its own. That was the reason why he was bound to Enma Daio's bidding. He literally was a nonentity, a lifeless shell of a man whom the Lord of Death freely manipulated like a marionette.

But still, even after six hundred years, a part of him still longed for Asuka. That was all that was of left him and his humanity; unfulfilled desires that could never be satisfied.

He looked down from his perch on the branch of a cherry tree just as the mother of the most important person of his existence strolled outside of her apartment to get some fresh air.

He stared straight into the womb of the young woman and breathed a breathless sigh; an apology.

He was truly sorry; for his salvation and the salvation of many others he'd killed would come at the cost of an angel's tears. His precious one's life was the price.

Half of his soul combined with hers to form nothingness: one negating the other like two equal values of the same equation. It was the only way he could be saved from his never-ending nightmare, but it was also Asuka's damnation. In order for his parasitic soul to finally rest in peace, he would have to sacrifice the remnants of his precious one's self.

He longed to end his suffering, to silence the echoes of the ghosts that he'd terminated in the name of the Spirit World, but he didn't want his salvation at the cost of Asuka's very existence. If only there were another way.

Asuka Matsui was about to be reborn as Shuichi Minamino; and just as quickly, she would die as Shuichi Minamino. Tetsuma had to make his choice soon, before her soul returned to limbo.

'I made a gamble, and it paid off. So your precious Minamino Shuichi is actually this woman's unborn child. How convenient.'

Tetsuma was taken aback by the last statement. The voice he heard in his head was not his own. 'Kitsune.'

'Close. Guess again.'

Tetsuma didn't have time for Youko Kurama's mind games. Wasn't he supposed to be hiding right now, plotting his revenge on the Spirit World in accordance to Enma Daio's grand scheme and design? 'What do you want?'

'I want what you want... and I got it.'

Tetsuma's eyes widened in horror and realization as he stared at Shiori Minamino's womb for one more time.

'You're a minute too late.'

There was a reason why Kurama's spirit had to leap from person to person every thirty minutes. Any longer than that and the soul of the body he was currently occupying would naturally expel him. If he still forced himself into the used body, he could do possible damage to its inborn soul and to himself. No two souls could occupy the same body for more than half an hour.

That was, unless he inhabited the half-formed body of a recently conceived infant. Even if the child was the reincarnation of an old soul, he could still take control of its body without risking damage to its intended occupant or to himself.

And, thirty-one minutes ago, he did just that.

'This is my revenge. I've stolen her from you. I've stolen your precious Minamino Shuichi.'

* * *

Kurama thought long and hard on the implications of Tetsuma's latest revelations. 'I first thought that I possessed Minamino Shuichi's body out of the need to survive. I can't believe that I actually did it out of spite; and that I even hid the truth from myself! Was I really so cold-blooded, heartless, and petty? Have I become so different from my former self that I can now feel disgust over my past actions?'

"So many thoughts, so little time," Tetsuma grimly stated. "Your mind is going a mile a minute. You of all people should be aware of why Youko Kurama blocked those particular memories for so long."

"Stop reading my mind."

"I don't need to. It's written all over your face."

"Too bad I can't say the same for you. Nothing can be written on that poker face of yours."

Tetsuma held his gaze at Kurama meaningfully. "Is that so? So what now? What will you do now that you know the truth?"

Kurama fell silent as he returned Tetsuma's gaze. "None of it matters now. Whatever my intentions were before, they certainly aren't the intentions I have now."

"What is your answer, then? Is your answer the same as before or have you changed your mind?"

Kurama shook his head solemnly. "Though circumstances have somewhat changed, my answer remains the same. Minamino Shuichi is still everyone's Minamino Shuichi, so for everyone's sake, I will bring back the true Minamino Shuichi."

"I see. So your answer is still the same." Tetsuma said, his bleak demeanor never changing. "Stop hesitating. You already have your answer, now go forth and fulfill it."

"I don't know how," Kurama frankly retorted, flustered. "How can I fulfill my will? I remember Asuka-san and what the youko did so that I could forget about her. I remember that she's as important to me as she is to you. But I don't remember ever meeting her. I don't remember how I fell in love with her. And I also have no idea how you became my 'puppet', when in fact we should have become the most bitter of enemies because of what I've done. Please help me remember, Yoshitaka-kun."

But Kurama's pleas fell on deaf ears. "You have gone through a lot these past few months. A girl almost fell in love with you, and you to her. Your true sexuality has been revealed to you. You even fought your past self to avoid a glorified suicide. So much has been revealed in so little time."

"You say that so much has been revealed, yet here I am, confused as ever before. What must I do now?" Kurama demanded, nearly pleaded.

"Your will, kitsune. Your will be done."

"I still don't understand."

Tetsuma's limp body slumped against an unseen wall as pieces of his immortal shell degenerated further. "From being a merciless youko thief, you've gradually become Matsui Asuka's reincarnation. You've slowly assimilated her personality all these sixteen years you've lived as a human. Her kindness, gentleness, sympathy, and compassion for others; these are emotions that the youko could never _ever_ feel yet you still felt them... and lived them... as Minamino Shuichi."

"But that's preposterous! I stole this body from Asuka-san!" Kurama insisted. "She never had the chance to live. I inhabited this body long before her soul ever could. Besides that, no two souls could ever exist in one body. This personality change theory of yours is too farfetched."

Tetsuma's fisheyes seemed to laugh merrily at the half-youko's expense. "It's the miracle of your free will. You willed it to happen." In the fox's mind, he thoughtfully added, 'Your 'revenge' turned out to be Asuka's salvation... and mine as well.'

Quelling his frustration and suspending his disbelief, Kurama lifted all his previous assumptions on the situation and studied it anew. Conclusions that were once dismissed as improbable were now fair game.

'Can it be... soul fusion?' He skeptically shook his head. 'But that's impossible! There's no such thing!' The red-haired ghost exhaled breathlessly. 'Yet, seeing what had happened to me all these sixteen years, can I still dismiss the possibility?'

A new piece of the puzzle fell into place. 'Those bullets imbued with Tetsuma's void; could they have done more than just weaken me? Could it be possible that I myself became a wandering half-soul sixteen years ago? Then that means...!'

Suddenly, 'soul fusion' didn't seem so ridiculous a concept to Kurama. Nonetheless, he felt that something was amiss with his theory. 'If, for the sake of argument, I _did_ fuse with Asuka-san's soul, then why didn't I cease to exist like in the case of Tetsuma's planned fusion? Or rather, why would Tetsuma and Asuka's fusion result in the termination of both their existences?' He afterwards considered the fact that Tetsuma's soul was a self-consuming and voracious spirit void.

Though soul fusion and spirit voids were unheard of in all the three worlds, half-souls were not. Half-souls were classified by the Spirit World as injured ghosts on the brink of extinction. Generally, they came from the spoils of soul-eaters reminiscent of Gouki, Kurama's former partner-in-crime. The Reikai usually sent these 'half-eaten' spirits to limbo, as in the case of Asuka Matsui. But Yoshitaka Tetsuma was no ordinary half-soul, as evidenced by his deathly presence and total lack of ki energy. He was never sent to limbo, though he did suffer his own special kind of limbo in the hands of Enma Daio.

'In other words, Tetsuma and I possess two very different cases of soul fusion, and the existence of half-souls is actually an ordinary, everyday occurrence.'

Kurama currently had three facts at hand; half-souls could be fused together, his debilitated fox spirit could've become a half-soul because of what the infamous Reikai Hunter did to him, and Tetsuma's leechlike ghost was far different from any 'normal' half-soul he had ever seen.

'So what would happen if two 'normal' half-souls fused together?' As far as Kurama knew, such an event never happened, but it wasn't entirely improbable. If, against all odds, Kurama's spirit was shattered in exact proportion to Asuka's, then it was more than just a probability. The odds of that happening were astronomical, but at this point Kurama would believe anything. 'Such is the power of free will.'

Half of his soul combined with Asuka's to form a whole; it actually made perfect sense-far more sense than Tetsuma's suicidal union with his former lover.

Kurama's emerald eyes sparkled in realization. Soul fusion was quite possible. He had firsthand experience of the fact.

"I understand now. I didn't just steal Asuka-san's body. I also stole her shattered soul. That's why you couldn't bring yourself to kill me at the time. I unknowingly finished what you've started."

"No. It was merely fate. Fate has chosen you to right the wrongs that I've done. By giving back her simple destiny, Asuka can finally realize her dreams."

"What are you saying, Yoshitaka-kun?"

"Fate and dreams are alike. They set you on a path, a goal; they give you purpose in life. But they can also become traps. You could use fate as an excuse to not do anything, since everything is already predestined for you. So are dreams. Living in a dream world provides you an escape from reality, so you don't have to deal with real life issues and drama."

Once again, Kurama's senses were engulfed with wistful reminiscence. 'Have I heard these words before? When and where did I first hear them?'

"But fate can only take you so far," Tetsuma continued. "In the end, it's your choice and judgment that will ultimately decide your destiny. And it's the same with dreams." His lips slightly curving upward, the former shinigami concluded, "Thank you for making Asuka's dreams your own. Thank you for living her dreams."

For what seemed like an eternity, Kurama's words were left frozen in his half-opened mouth. They eventually thawed out and melted. "Was that... Was that what I've been doing all this time? 'Living' her dreams?"

Greeted by Tetsuma's morose silence, Kurama was left to ponder his thoughts in evident solitude.

* * *

As Kuwabara's strikes finally hit Yusuke, the grinded earth swallowing the half-demon whole, overpowering feelings of uncertain celebration filled him. Had he done it? Was he finally able to best Yusuke Urameshi in one-on-one combat? He wasn't about to take any chances in any case, continuing his phenomenal offensive.

He abruptly stopped. 'No. It's too early. This isn't enough to beat Urameshi.' His eyes widened as he wildly looked up at the overcast skies.

There he was, high up in the heavens... bloodied, exhausted yet determined.

"URAMESHI!"

Descending like a gigantic streaking comet from outer space came Yusuke's fully charged Rei-Gan.

Pooling all his resources on his defensive parry, Kazuma Kuwabara hit the sphere of energy in full force with the Mugen Tou. Slowly but surely, the concentrated spirit ball shrunk in size as the black sword dispersed the incursion's superfluous amount of ghostly energy.

Kuwabara could not catch sight of where Yusuke landed because of the intense glare of the glowing projectile. He was about to use the Jigen Tou to completely dissipate the energy shot when he remembered something very important.

'Yusuke was charging two of his pointer fingers, one with reiki, the other with youki. I'm only parrying one Rei-Gan. That means...!'

Kuwabara glanced towards his back in terror and doubt. Ten meters away, descending head first towards the ground was an upside-down Yusuke, firing his last You-Gan.

His reflexes flaring up in time, Kuwabara repeatedly hit the approaching demonic spirit ball with his Jigen Tou. By the time it reached him, the You-Gan was reduced to about three-quarters its original size.

Nevertheless, Kuwabara awoke to a frightening realization. He was now sandwiched between two massive spheres of pure death.

But death was the furthest thing from Kuwabara's mind. 'This is Urameshi's all-or-nothing attack. He poured his whole heart and soul into these two blasts. I won't give him anything less than my full effort and more!'

As Samson had prayed for one last burst of strength during his time of great need, so did Kuwabara. Even with the difference of culture and religion, the amount of faith they poured into their prayer was about the same. Adrenalin pumping like hot magma in his veins, the rambunctious teenager ferociously pushed against the orbs of spiritual fire that threatened to crush him like a gnat and burn him like a moth.

* * *

After much contemplation, Kurama's faint whimsy was finally overwhelmed by the torrent of remembrance. His recollections were filled with images of people from both the distant and recent past. Shigeru. Midori. Chiho. Yumiko. Maya. Kaito. Keiko. Yusuke. Kuwabara. Hiei. His youko self. His mother.

Just who was Shuichi Minamino to them?

More memories came flooding into Kurama's mind, some his own and some not his own, all originating from the dreams he had shared with the many people of his human life.

'I'm inside their dreams... all their dreams. I'm replaying their memories in my mind. I'm seeing the same view over and over again.'

It was really silly of Shigeru Amano, the biggest fool, to think that Minamino was his friend. He was such a fool indeed to look up to someone who didn't even give a damn about him and his personal affairs. It was foolish of him to think that he was friends with this metaphor, this archetype, this unreachable ideal which he was never close with in the first place. That was who Minamino was to Shigeru; not a person, but the idealistic concept of one.

'I couldn't blame Shigeru-kun for thinking that way. Once upon a time I too saw Minamino Shuichi as an archetype instead of a person.'

Shigeru always felt that even though he knew of Minamino, he could never really know the true Minamino, as though _that_ concept was far beyond the grasp of his mind. He was but a mere outsider in Minamino's World.

'But I myself didn't know who I was; up until now, even. I'm the outsider in your world.'

"The Ice Queen, her pawns, the White Emperor, the girl of dreams, the mass of lemmings, the boy of reflection; it's as if they came from another age, another time, and another world," Midori Ohya had said to Youko Kurama in the Janen Ju-induced dream in her mind.

'These are Midori-san's nicknames for everyone at Meiou High. The Ice Queen is Sasae Chiho, while all the members of the Fashion Club are her pawns. The White Emperor is Principal Sasae. The girl of dreams is Yumiko-san. The mass of lemmings is the "Legion of Minamino-sama". Finally, the boy of reflection is... me. And I now know why Midori-san calls me that; because even now, I'm still uncovering the many reflections and faces of Minamino Shuichi.'

It was tough work, but somehow Chiho Sasae was able to organize everything and everyone within the Legion of Minamino-sama, making them a formidable force to be reckoned with indeed. There were times when Chiho wondered if the Legion was even bigger than Minamino himself; bigger than the very reason for the club's existence.

'Chiho-san and the Legion's opinions of me are both half-truths and half-presumptions. The Minamino that they're devoted to is a larger-than-life caricature of me. Just how do I separate fact from fiction? What am I supposed to realize?'

"Fate and dreams are alike. They set you on a path, a goal; they give you purpose in life. But they can also become traps. You could use fate as an excuse to not do anything, since everything is already predestined for you. So are dreams. Living in a dream world provides you an escape from reality, so you don't have to deal with real life issues and drama," Yumiko had said after she finally worked up the courage to confess to Kurama her true feelings.

'So these words that Yoshitaka-kun said aren't his at all; but they aren't Yumiko-san's words either. She borrowed them from me. These are my words. This is how I see fate and dreams.'

"I'm happy being what I am now-an image in your mind-because I'm glad that somehow, you've let me into your heart. This is enough," the Maya in Kurama's mind stated. "I'm happy that when you made this dream your own, I became a part of it. I'm more than glad to be a part of your dreams, Shuichi-san. Never forget that."

'Is this how I made Asuka-san's dreams my own? Was it the same way I made Maya-san a part of my dreams?'

'Who was this 'Kurama' anyway?' Kaito remembered asking this question over and over again in his mind ever since Genkai revealed to him his rival's true past. 'Demon plants and demon foxes aside, what are the base components of this person who has three identities altogether: the youko, the human, and the person in between?'

'This is the same question I've been asking myself since this whole dilemma began. It's my unending identity crisis.'

"Kurama-san can only be Kurama-san," Keiko had earnestly declared one fateful springtime night when she and Kurama cleared up several misunderstandings. "Kurama-san can never, ever hurt the people he cares about the most. He never has any selfish reasons behind his motives. That's because Kurama-san is nice."

'That's the exact opposite of who Youko Kurama is. I was never like that as Youko Kurama. What happened? What changed?'

"I believe that the first thing you'd answer to a question with no hesitation whatsoever is your true answer," Yusuke had disclosed to Kurama the day after he dreamed his strange dream about Hiei.

'The kind of questions I've been asking myself lately have no ready answers, Yusuke. But even when I come up with answers, it doesn't get any easier; from all my complicated answers comes even more questions. I still couldn't figure myself out.'

"I don't get it, Kurama. You're a good-looking fellow; a pretty boy, in fact," Kuwabara surmised, scratching the back of his head to illustrate his confusion. "But all indications just lead to one conclusion: with the way you can relate with girls and can't relate with boys, the answer should be pretty obvious."

'Kuwabara was only half-right. Neither boy nor girl could ever understand me. I was a youko trapped in a human body-an outsider from the very beginning. But perhaps the answer is obvious. I just have to look deep inside myself to find it.'

Whoever he was at the moment-whether Kurama, Youko Kurama, or Shuichi Minamino-his fighting technique remained the same, so it made no difference to Jaganshi Hiei what Kurama currently called himself.

'Perhaps I should go with Hiei's logic. It does make things easier to understand.'

'Being a self-righteous martyr is no way to live your life. Regret doesn't make up for lost moments. You've got to savor each precious second, until the very end,' Hiei mused just as he prepared himself to fight Kurama's youko self.

'But I am savoring each precious second, Hiei. As you have lived a full life with no regrets, so have I. I'm beginning to understand what I must do. Something must now end in order for something else to begin.'

"Well then, I have this to say. If you still think that you are me and I am you, then you will see and understand the tragedy your decision has made of your life," Youko Kurama had insisted to his half-youko counterpart during one of their many face-offs.

'The question is: Am I still you? I still don't see the tragedy of living my life as a human. And the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that I've truly changed. Though you're definitely a part me, you are not me. Not anymore. I already bid farewell to my past.'

'Sometimes I want him to be naughty. I want him to have fun; to dirty his clothes once in a while and to play in the dirt once in a while,' Kurama's 'mother' had wistfully contemplated when he was just a little boy. 'He should talk more. He should talk about 'boy' things like lizards, tops, and slingshots. He should be more curious of his surroundings. All the other kids keep away from him, and it worries me. I love him so much, but still-'

'I might have not been the typical child, but even so, do you like what I've turned out to be, kaasan? Do you like the Minamino Shuichi that I've become? Because...'

As Kurama's train of thought progressed, one very familiar childhood memory entered the scarlet-haired ghost's mind. It contained the image of a young Shuichi Minamino sitting on a branch of a tree while a delightful squall of cherry blossoms surrounded him. His mother was smiling blissfully at him, her arms wide open as she ushered him down from his perch. It was a simple memory, but it had a significant impact in his life.

'...Because it seemed that you did. Well, I'd like to think that you did. I'm fairly sure that you do love Minamino Shuichi. No, you certainly do, no doubt about it. Don't worry, kaasan. I'll bring your _real_ child back. The true Minamino Shuichi will soon return, just you wait and see.'

Since that momentous day in spring, Kurama vowed that he will become the best Shuichi he could ever be for Shiori's sake. From that day forth, he learned to love Shuichi Minamino as much as she did.

"And indeed you did learn to love her. It would seem that you and the late Tetsuma Yoshitaka have fallen in love with the same woman," Tetsuma mechanically said, interrupting Kurama's thoughts.

"I know, but I still don't understand! I know I love her, but I don't remember how. How did I fall in love with Asuka-san? How can I fall in love with a woman I've never met?"

"But you have met her. Everyday, you've watched her grow and blossom like a flower. Seeing her kindheartedness, her sweetness, and her sympathy for others melted your cold, merciless heart. Her pure love for her mother has moved you beyond words. From the moment you've learned to love her, you knew that you had to protect her, no matter what. You love her almost as much as I did, when I was still alive."

"But how...?" Kurama insisted.

"Have you ever looked in a mirror? Who was the person staring back at you?" was Tetsuma's enigmatic response.

One final, dream-like memory came into view. It was one of Tetsuma's memories from sixteen years ago, when Kurama finally became Shuichi Minamino.

Half of his soul combined with hers to form nothingness; one negating the other like two equal values of the same equation. It was the only way he could be saved from his never-ending nightmare, but it was also Asuka's damnation. In order for his parasitic soul to finally rest in peace, he would have to sacrifice the remnants of his precious one's self.

"But you don't have to, Yoshitaka-kun. You don't have to combine your shattered soul with Asuka-san's anymore. Because..."

Comprehension finally dawned in Kurama's face. The puzzle was nearly complete. "I've done your job for you. But the strangest thing happened. Instead of damning Asuka-san, I've... I've..."

"You've become her," Tetsuma finished for Kurama. "From what I've seen in the countless dreams you've shared with the many important people in your human life, I've come to believe that you've unwittingly transformed yourself into Minamino Shuichi."

Kurama mutely nodded as he absently stared down at the dark abyss beneath his feet. "I don't need to become Asuka-san. I... already am her. I already am Minamino Shuichi. I don't know how, but I've fulfilled her chance to be reborn and lived her life for her."

Kurama had just recently declared that Shuichi Minamino and Asuka Matsui were one and the same. He never realized that he, along with Minamino and Asuka, were all the same person.

"It was Asuka-san. It was her all along that led me to become like this. It was Asuka-san's gentleness that permeated through the cruel, merciless shell of my former self. Then I became... different from what I had been before. It was Minamino Shuichi whom I've fallen in love with all this time. It's Minamino Shuichi whom I want."

* * *

A nasty combination of noxious gas, musty humus, and rotting corpses was unceremoniously flung into the air as entire plots of land were overturned. 'Oh man, I hope I don't get too much bad karma for thrashing this graveyard! If I die now, Koenma will send me to hell! Kami-sama, please forgive-' Kuwabara reflected, but his train of thought was prematurely interrupted by daggers of ever-increasing agony.

In the back of Kuwabara's mind, he realized that he had bitten off more than he could chew.

Small gushes of blood started to spurt from all over Kuwabara's battered frame as the intense gravitational pressure on him mounted. It seemed that his body was about to burst by the way his veins were pulsating and his muscles were contracting. 'What the hell does it take to beat you, Urameshi? What the fuck does it take, you motherfucking BASTARD?'

Despite his current, incapacitated state, Kuwabara could still feel Yusuke's sharp, unblinking glare on him. It was a glare of definite challenge that pierced through the debased boy's despair and frustration.

'Is that all you got?' Yusuke seemed to say through his fiery eyes. 'Are you happy with this?'

Needless to say, Kuwabara was becoming 'royally pissed.'

As the self-proclaimed number one delinquent of Sarayashiki Junior High, Kazuma Kuwabara very much believed in "Fighter's Pride." For him, a true man should keep on fighting no matter what the odds or who he faced. Unfortunately, Yusuke Urameshi... the _reputed_ number one delinquent of Sarayashiki Junior High... also possessed that kind of pride.

'But pride has nothing to do with this. Winning has nothing to do with this. I just want to fight. I want to see how far I can go. It's that simple,' Kuwabara concluded to himself.

Kuwabara now knew how Yusuke felt whenever he fought. They now shared the same reasons for fighting. For once in his life, the tall teenager wasn't just fighting to prove his self worth. He wasn't just fighting for revenge, or for some heroic, manly ideal. He fought because he enjoyed it. He fought because he wanted to know the limits of his abilities.

"Bastard."

Both energy spheres moved an inch away from Kuwabara as he began to counter the powerful offensive.

"You're always pissing me off."

The inch widened to a foot's distance. A minute later, the massive bursts of spiritual fire were at arm's length.

"Motherfucker..."

Before long, Kuwabara had regained enough leverage to strike; and he did so with all his strength.

With a mighty roar of, "Motherfucking, son of a bitch BASTARD!" Kuwabara cleanly sliced the youki and reiki blasts into four halves, parting them like twin Red Seas. Their demonic and spiritual ki quickly dissipated into harmless pinpoints of luminescence.

Kuwabara wasn't sure if his "tank" had enough "fuel" left in it, but he was certain that Yusuke wasn't in such great shape either. It was now his chance to even the odds. 'I don't care how pathetic a hundred and fifty-six wins to one win sounds. If I'm able to beat him now that he's Class-Shit or whatever, then all those other wins won't count! Urameshi, I'll...!'

However, something was amiss.

"What the fuck?" Kuwabara yelped in surprise as a web of cracks started to form on Munashii's Mugen Tou. 'Hey, shadow man! What's going on? Are you all right?'

He was only greeted by silence.

* * *

Kurama stared at the severely damaged Tetsuma with a hint of worry in his eyes. The former shinigami's body was rapidly deteriorating. "Will you be all right? It looks like your fight with Hiei has taken its toll on you," the recently deceased kitsune hypothesized, unaware of the supposed battle's final outcome. The only thing he saw before he expired was Hiei charging at Tetsuma.

"The koorime wasn't the only one who did this to me. Even now, I'm lending my powers to someone else to..."

"Then stop it! There's no point to this anymore. I'm already dead, right? There's no reason for you to strain yourself. You've already been through too much. That's enough."

"You should be more worried about your koorime friend."

Taken aback by Tetsuma's statement, Kurama anxiously asked, "Should I be?" expecting the worst. He was now torn between worrying about the state of his alleged puppet's body and worrying about Hiei's own condition. 'It must have been a fight to the death. Maybe I should have finished you off when I had the chance, Hiei. Then I could have at least given you your death match.'

Tetsuma waved Kurama off in apparent reassurance, stating, "His will is strong, but so is yours. It will be interesting to see whose will shall prevail."

Needless to say, Kurama felt anything but reassured. He soon found himself pondering on the solution to the mystery that was Yoshitaka Tetsuma. The nonentity's responses were indeed cryptic to the point of incomprehension. "What now, Yoshitaka-kun? What should be my next move?"

"It's now time to fulfill your will, kitsune. At long last, it has come to this. Everything was orchestrated according to your bidding. My job here is nearly done."

"What about your will? What about the things that you want? What happens to you once I bring Minamino Shuichi back?" Kurama forthrightly asked as he felt a cold dread gnaw at the pits of his ethereal stomach.

Tetsuma glibly remarked, "It doesn't matter what happens me. I am a means to an end, nothing more. Enma Daio knew this and treated me accordingly."

Kurama winced at Tetsuma's words as he sadly looked away. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that or you'll make Asuka-san very sad. You've already sacrificed so much for her, and..."

"Don't be sad for me. Tetsuma Yoshitaka is already dead. In fact, who I am right now is not who I was before. I only did your bidding and nothing more. Your sympathy is misplaced."

Kurama shook his head and then stared into Tetsuma's violet eyes. "I can't think of you as a means to an end, even if you are a shadow of your former self. I never could, for Asuka's sake."

"That's because Kurama is nice. Kurama can only be Kurama. Kurama can never hurt the people he cares about the most. He never has any selfish reasons behind his motives."

"Those aren't your words. They're Keiko-san's," Kurama stated, adding, "The words you've been using are either words I've heard in my dreams or words I myself have said. Stop using other people's words."

"But a puppet has no words of its own. It can only say what its master wants it to say," Tetsuma vacuously replied.

"Don't you dare say that I _wanted_ this to happen! You can't claim that it's my will for you to die! Yoshitaka-kun, Asuka-san is coming back soon. Please, just wait a little longer. I swear that I'll figure this problem out, so-"

Interrupting Kurama's rant, Tetsuma emotionlessly noted, "Kuwabara Kazuma has finally pushed me to my limits. It's just as well. I can now complete my final task."

"Kuwabara-kun was the one you lent your powers to? Why, Yoshitaka-kun, why? Why are you so intent on killing yourself?" Kurama demanded.

"It's because I have your will to fulfill," Tetsuma parroted.

"Damn my will!" Kurama exclaimed. "Is there no other way? Don't you want to see Asuka-san again? How about following your own will?"

"My will? My will was to destroy myself and Asuka by combining our half-souls together. I wanted to end my suffering, even at the cost of Asuka's last chance for a happy life. It would have been the end for both of us. I deserve to die alone."

"Don't go! Asuka-san needs you. She needs Tetsuma Yoshitaka to welcome her back to the world of the living. It couldn't possibly be her will to see you go, not after what both of you had been through."

"Tetsuma Yoshitaka is dead. 'Munashii' is a contradiction to that. I am an anomaly in the eyes of the Spirit World. I am not supposed to exist. I believe it's time to rectify this abnormality."

Kurama was reluctant to pick up the puzzle piece that was right in front of him, but he had to face facts. He knew that Tetsuma wasn't Tetsuma anymore. The nonentity Munashii was a miscalculation of fate that needs to be corrected, and Tetsuma himself knew this.

Kurama made it his will to destroy Tetsuma because Tetsuma himself wanted to be destroyed. Of course, Keiko Yukimura's "nice, unselfish, and gentle" Kurama was noble and gallant enough to grant his loyal puppet this one last wish. But as usual, the kitsune's will was divided on the issue.

'What little that's left of Yoshitaka-kun inside Munashii could never forgive himself for even _considering_ to put an end to Asuka-san's existence; that's the real reason why he wants me to kill him the only way he can be killed: by pure willpower. But can I? Am I merciless enough to destroy what little that's left of him?'

With certain conclusiveness, Tetsuma declared, "It's time."

"NO! Don't die, Yoshitaka-kun! After all this time, you finally have the chance to see Asuka-san again! I'm sure she'll be really happy to see you, so don't waste this chance. Please, listen..."

"Congratulations, Youko Kurama. After a decade and a half, you've finally risen to Enma Daio's challenge. You've beaten his precious Reikai Hunter without even lifting a finger. You truly are legendary. Here is your... prize."

"NO! Yoshitaka-kun, don't die! YOSH'TAKA-KUN! Can you hear me? Yosh'taka-kun? Y'TAKA-KUN! Y'taka-kun! Wake up, 'taka-kun! Taka-kun! TAKA-KUN!" Kurama shouted out in helpless concern.

"I can... hear it. She's... calling me by that... name. I... can... hear her," Tetsuma disjointedly rasped to himself as the rift inside his chest widened. His fragile, fractured self quickly degenerated, interspersing into shards of human clay.

"TAKA-KUN!"

At long last, an unmistakable smile crept into the edges of Tetsuma's lips. This was the happiest he had ever been in six hundred years. "It's a call... that I've always... cherished."

Tetsuma's withered and broken body collapsed into the spectral void; it could no longer support the gravity of its own weight. Piece by piece, he fell apart: his fingers, hands, feet, shoulders, arms, limbs, and head crumbled into dust, one after the other.

He disappeared, swallowed by his own oblivion.

* * *

Yoshitaka Tetsuma's Infinity Blade suffered a fate identical to its original owner's, shattering like fragile glass thrown into an unforgiving concrete wall. The exact same thing happened to the chain-mail armor, its broken shards disintegrating into nothingness.

'Munashii...!'

Kuwabara's shoulders limply slumped as reality struck him hard. 'So Kurama did go through with it after all. He let Munashii die.' The carrot-topped boy shook his head. 'No. It's not Kurama's fault. It's really my fault. I was careless. I wanted to bash Urameshi's teeth in so badly that I strained Munashii's powers too much. His body couldn't take it, so it fell apart. Damn.'

"Fuck, now that's what I'm talking about! I've been waiting forever for this!" Yusuke said, blissfully unaware of what truly conspired after Kuwabara lost his borrowed abilities. "This time, come at me using _only_ your powers, Kuwabara!"

Pulling himself together, Kuwabara quickly realized that he still wanted to finish his fight with Yusuke. Little else mattered to him as of the moment. His grieving could wait. 'I guess this is Munashii's farewell gift to make up for all the shit he put me through in granny's dojo. Well, this is one helluva present!'

"I only got one attack left," Kuwabara admitted, smirking.

"Really? So do I," Yusuke confessed, guffawing. "I'm not even sure if I can still stand after this fight, let alone breathe properly."

"Okay. Then nobody can call foul afterwards," Kuwabara reckoned as he readied his flickering Jigen Tou into position. "Since I can't charge from where I'm standing because of my busted legs, it's your move."

"Fine, 'coz your high cheek bones, flaring nostrils, and ugly face are really starting to piss me off."

"Is that so? Well, your uppity, devil-may-care attitude really makes me want to clop that gelled head of yours clean off!"

"Humph. Shut up. I can't believe you actually used faerie powers to land a low blow on me a while ago. That's cheap, even for you!"

Kuwabara blinked. "You're still pissed about that?"

"Hell yeah, I'm pissed!" Yusuke spat. "I'm pissed, but I don't hate you."

Kuwabara toothily grinned. "Same here. Actually, I am kind of jealous of how you live your life. You really don't take shit from anyone, do you?"

"Stop it! You're making me tear up," Yusuke joked, chuckling.

"Heh. I guess the love fest ends here." Kuwabara chortled. "Because there's something I just can't let go off. Something I can't give up."

"That's right. I feel the same way."

Just like in their battle with the Supreme Ruler of the Nether World... Meikai no Ou, Yakumo... Yusuke and Kuwabara's minds soon became one.

"And for that, there are times when you have to fight!" the two infamous Sarayashiki delinquents chorused.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Shuichi Minamino's long good-byes.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic... Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	19. Chapter 18: Rebirth 1

"Taka... kun?" Kurama whispered the words in astonishment, awestruck by the gravity of their meaning. "Taka-kun; so that's what Asuka-san called him before. She has spoken to him through me."

Yoshitaka Tetsuma's death was a difficult inevitability for Kurama to accept, but he understood its necessity. Tetsuma, the original catalyst of his journey towards self-discovery, had served his purpose. As a reward for the former shinigami's determined and obedient service, Kurama granted him his two greatest wishes: eternal peace and Asuka's rebirth.

'It'll be my pleasure to give back to Asuka-san what I've stolen from her. It's about time she enjoyed the life I myself have come to love,' Kurama thought as he stared straight into the dark and empty space Tetsuma occupied just a minute ago. 'It'll be all right. Your death won't be in vain, Taka-kun.'

Something bothered Kurama. It was a disturbed, uneasy feeling that kept him on edge. What was the cause of this anxiety? Could it be the realization that he was now alone in an unknown world? A world that lay between the Spirit World and the Human World, no less. 'I didn't even notice it before, but where exactly am I? This place seems a lot like Itsuki's pocket dimension, come to think of it.'

Peering sightlessly into the dark abyss of nothingness, something caught the former Makai thief's eye. He saw silhouettes; long, thin silhouettes that danced to the rhythm of an unseen wind. A rain of jade slivers danced with them, bathing them in opulence.

Kurama's eyes became large emerald saucers of bewilderment. 'Those are... bamboo stalks! There are bamboo stalks growing from where Taka-kun stood. But what are they doing here? What's going on?'

An image of Tetsuma's poker face appeared in Kurama's mind. The shadow man's familiar purplish eyes seemed to twinkle at the kitsune in uncharacteristic mischief. 'Taka-kun's eyes always did bother me. They kept reminding me of something; something which I just can't put my finger on.'

Then came a flicker of light from a luminous jewel that swayed along the emptiness. It rested on the thin branches of a bamboo tree; a crimson gemstone encased in the silver locket of a pendant that swung back and forth like the glinting blade of a guillotine.

The dance of the red pendulum hypnotized the half-youko, beckoning his wistfulness for bygone times to emerge in his mind. The scene replayed itself painfully. The loss was stupid; the irony of it all lay in its foolishness and needlessness.

Then came the gentle tinkling, like a little bell; chiming echoes from centuries past in a far, far away world.

His partner's smiling face casually glanced back at the necklace he accidentally dropped. He couldn't be stopped. That piece of jewelry meant a lot to him. He promised that he would come back; all that for a simple pendant which he always wore a certain way. He was always so headstrong. He always went about things in a straightforward manner.

This... his effort to always be true to himself... led to his own demise.

Bamboo shoots shot up as Kuronue was helplessly caught in the elaborate deathtrap. Blood dripped mercilessly on the ground; an unwanted blood offering. He still clasped the jewel with his right hand in an iron grip. It gently swayed in the wind.

It swayed back and forth, glinting... like a flying guillotine.

From the scents of the past came the comprehension of the present. Kurama remembered who the pendant belonged to. He also figured out why Tetsuma's eyes were so recognizable to him. 'Taka-kun doesn't only lack words of his own; his eyes are also not his.'

Kurama silently grasped the ruby pendant as realization quickly set in. "Is this my 'prize' for defeating you, Reikai Hunter Tetsuma Yoshitaka?" His ghostly knuckles seemed to turn white as his ethereal grip on the bejeweled necklace tightened. "It seems a bit much."

Kurama sighed. "So, after all this time, I finally got Kuronue's precious pendant back."

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please. I'm very poor.

Once reborn, who will Kurama become? Shuichi Minamino? His old youko self? Or the person halfway between the two?

* * *

**Chapter 18: Rebirth (Part 1)**

* * *

No more words were necessary. With swift punches and skillful slashes amidst mutual pain and agony, Kuwabara and Yusuke struck their respective blows.

'It doesn't matter if it's Urameshi; I will CUT through anything and anyone that stands in my way!' Kuwabara thought as he readied his Jigen Tou.

The two combatants' war against each other was far beyond that of a conflict of ideals; it was not merely for the sake of vengeance. What it was in all its succinct simplicity was a contest of wills.

Utilizing his innate creativity during combat, Kuwabara combined his Spirit Sword extending skill with his most powerful ability, the Dimension Sword. He quickly elongated his diamond-shaped Jigen Tou to about the length of a lamp post, quadrupling its already nigh-limitless attack area.

Rousing his centuries-old mazoku genes from their dormant slumber, Yusuke metamorphosed into his full demonic form. Ink-black markings surrounded his body as his hair grew to about ankle-length. As Kuwabara's area of attack continued to increase, so did Toushin Yusuke's speed, dexterity, and incredible tolerance to pain.

Swinging his deadly weapon with reckless abandon, Kuwabara was able to make incisions many miles long and many yards deep. His attacks seemed more like fault lines from an earthquake than markings from a blade. Though accuracy had to be sacrificed for the sake of range, the taller teenager believed that it was a good tradeoff.

Again, it seemed that another stalemate between the two ghost fighters was inevitable. Kuwabara's unstoppable blade was easily evaded by Yusuke's superior nimbleness and agility. At that point, neither one of the two could harm the other. However, as luck would have it, the boy endowed with Extra Sensory Perception chanced upon correctly guessing his opponent's next move through the use of his aforementioned talent.

Yusuke was cut cleanly in half, like a bloody apple. A shocked look could be seen on the torn parts of the mazoku's face. Then, strangely enough, he smirked.

In a move reminiscent of the immortal Toguro Ani, Toushin Yusuke reunified his splintered body, the damaged cells of his muscles, skin tissue, and bones instantaneously regenerating. Unfortunately, because of the effort it took to heal himself, he had to revert to his half-demon state.

'Good. Urameshi isn't 'demonized' anymore. Now's my chance to...' Kuwabara's mouth went agape at what he subsequently saw.

And so they came: a thousand points of light.

'SHIT! That's one HELLUVA Rei-Kou-Dan!' Kuwabara mentally exclaimed as he braced himself for impact. Reflexively reacting to the attack, he rapidly swung his Jigen Tou in a circular fashion, the movement serving as his shield against the torrent of spiritual and demonic energy.

Sparks flew as tidal wave upon tidal wave of pure power repeatedly battered the carrot-topped adolescent. 'If this keeps up, I'll be done for! Damn it, I've got to think of something.'

A golden glow started to spread all over Yusuke's body, immersing him in deific glory. As soon as his overwhelming Rei-Kou-Dan Assault ended, he immediately charged at Kuwabara with no hesitation or reluctance.

Kuwabara could only stare as his half-demon adversary ripped apart his lance-like Dimension Sword in one move. He winced afterwards at the intensity of the searing light force that surrounded Yusuke.

'This is Sensui's Sei Kou Ki!' Kuwabara realized. The Saint Light Ki was neither reiki nor youki; it was a special kind of ki that was, in theory, one of the greatest powers in all of the three worlds. Mere possession of this angelic ability was enough to warrant an S-level classification from the Spirit World. Very few people could master it; Shinobu Sensui himself had to train for nearly ten years before he could fully utilize the skill.

'You have got to be kidding me! Urameshi can do this technique? He ain't human! Well... technically, he really ain't... but... AH, DAMN IT!'

The Saint Light Ki was strong enough to repel even the strongest of the Reikai seals, which was basically what Koenma's pacifier was. It was even powerful enough to keep the Kokuryuha, Hiei's greatest technique, at bay; Kuwabara should know, since he himself witnessed the momentous event with his own eyes.

'What the hell am I supposed to do now? I can't face Urameshi like this! He just tore apart my Jigen Tou like it was made out of tissue paper! I'm definitely out of my league! Forget it! I'm just wasting my time!'

Just as soon as Kuwabara realized what sort of troubled thoughts floated in the dark pools of his mind, he felt shame. He looked at the shattered fragments of his Dimension Sword in sheepish embarrassment, remembering what Munashii had to go through in order to get him his special match with Yusuke.

'Sei Kou Ki my ASS! I don't give a damn about how great, how strong, or how powerful that shit is! Munashii gave me this once in a lifetime chance to beat Urameshi up, and I ain't gonna waste it by bending down and taking it like a two-bit whore! So taste my divine retribution, Urameshi Yusuke!'

"REI-SHURIKEN!"

Sparks flew as piece upon broken piece of Kuwabara's Jigen Tou rained on Yusuke like bomb shrapnel at point-blank range. The sudden assault would have ripped the mazoku descendant apart had he not evoked his Saint Light Ki. As it was, the surprise attack merely neutralized the half-demon's impassioned offensive.

'Let's make things more interesting, shall we? JIGEN TOU NITOURYU!' Almost immediately, the fragments of the Rei-Shuriken reformed and coalesced into not one, but two Dimension Swords. Kuwabara charged at Yusuke, ignoring the sharp, dagger-like pain of his knee and calf injuries.

'Let's finish this, you son of a bitch! COME ON!'

The two approached each other with the speed of a howling typhoon, heading for the point where life and death meet.

* * *

Kurama tightly clasped the bejeweled necklace in his vaporous hand, seemingly afraid to let it go. The forest of bamboo trees, strangely enough, had vanished the instant the half-youko retrieved his former partner-in-crime's valuable treasure.

So there he was, "Shuichi Minamino's ghost", floating in the hinterland of nothingness, a virtual purgatory of lost souls. 'Are you impressed yet, Youko Kurama? Well, don't be. There's still more to come. It looks like my 'death scene' will be quite the spectacular event.'

Kurama sighed audibly as he sightlessly stared at the emptiness of his personal limbo. From there, realization struck him like an audible slap on the cheek. He remembered Tetsuma mentioning that they were 'everywhere and nowhere at the same time.' He deeply pondered the rest of the shinigami's words as he reiterated them in his mind. "Welcome to the realm that lies in between the Spirit World and the Human World."

Seeing how Yoshitaka Tetsuma had affected his dreams many months back, after his first attack at Genkai's temple, Kurama easily put two-and-two together in regards to where he currently was. He'd been there numerous times before, and this place has answered many of his questions about himself and who he truly was. Or rather, who Asuka Matsui truly was.

It was the one place where anything was possible to those who had a strong enough heart, if not willpower, to achieve their hopes and dreams. This was the place where Kurama rediscovered his first human love, had a better understanding of his sexuality and how others viewed him, and defeated his past self with an epic death match to end all death matches.

More to the point, this was the perfect place for him to reestablish Asuka's threads of fate and give her back the life that was supposed to be hers in the first place.

'So I'm in the Dream World, huh?' Kurama thought as he gently slipped Kuronue's pendant over his neck, hiding it inside his school uniform's collar. 'It seems... emptier than when I last visited. It's as empty as Taka-kun's damned soul, even. It feels so lonely in here.'

Kurama swallowed hard as he took a determined step forward the dark abyss, his only certainty his doubt. Everything that had happened sixteen years past had finally come full circle. The Reikai Hunter that forced him to occupy a human child's body was finally dealt with. The long-lost pendant of his ex-partner was returned at last.

Was this mission in any way a leap of faith for Kurama? Most certainly it was. The whole ordeal of battling Tetsuma and then realizing that he was the one responsible for Tetsuma's actions was a leap of faith in and of itself. Eschewing common sense in this world of subconscious make-believe, he would finish what he had started. He had promises to fulfill, after all.

But first, as per usual with something as grand and elaborate as Kurama's death scene, it was now time to tie up all the loose ends. 'It's now time for my long and overdue good-byes, I believe.'

Kurama crossed the proverbial threshold, and from there, something strange started to happen. From beneath his feet, a beautiful oriental garden made of marble and porcelain sprouted out of nowhere as a rain of cherry blossoms pelted him with pink petals.

Before him, the symbolic bridge he was about to traverse turned into a literal one made of alabaster; meanwhile, from the other side of the mystical patio, he could clearly see a cobblestone road that, he presumed, led straight to the people he wanted to bid farewell the most. This world of imagination was the wistful boulevard to his good-byes, he reckoned.

'My final wish before granting Asuka her rebirth has come true. I get to speak to each and every one of my friends and loved ones through their dreams,' Kurama thought as he leisurely strolled in Meiou's serene halls. 'This is it. My first good-bye; just as I wished it to be.'

He quickly reached the nondescript cobblestone pathway strewn with cherry blossoms. The road was not winding, but straight and narrow amidst a veritable forest of pink. After a few more moments, he was able to chance upon one of the tree-lined rolling hills he saw earlier. He trudged on as the earlier rain of cherry blossoms petered out to a mere squall.

'Where's my first stop, I wonder? More importantly, who am I going to say good-bye to first?' Kurama pondered as he slowly descended on another identical veranda that eventually led towards a valley of grass and trees marred only by the out-of-place road. There were so many of them. Shigeru. Midori. Chiho. Yumiko. Keiko. Yusuke. Kuwabara. His mother, Shiori. Was he forgetting somebody?

Kurama started to feel nostalgia as the scenery slowly changed into something that was far more recognizable.

Kurama followed the narrow road until he reached a certain point where the grass and trees covered a smaller, more compressed area. Bushes and shrubs now lined his vision, surrounding him with a sense of familiarity he could not place.

He chanced upon a wooden bench beside one of the trees. When he turned, he saw a fountain not far from him. He realized that the rolling hills from behind him had somehow vanished. He was now in familiar ground. 'This is the park where Hiei usually sleeps! The park near my home in the Human World. Incredible.'

Curiously enough, the cobblestone road was still there, again defacing the scenery. As he left the park, the concrete jungle of suburbia replaced the tranquility of the hills and valley he traveled through earlier.

He treaded the road to springtime almost instinctively, such that he didn't need to check where it led. He already knew where he was supposed to go. After a rather lengthy stroll, he finally reached his first destination. A recognizable school chime rung as he entered the gates of his alma mater.

Kurama had now reached Meiou High School.

* * *

There was infinitesimal obscurity, a veritable abyss of oblivion.

'Gee, it's really dark.'

"..."

Kuwabara opened his eyes. Then there was light.

Kuwabara's vision adjusted to the faint deluge of luminescence. From there, he realized that he was staring straight into radiant lunacy.

'Huh. It's just the moon.' The lanky teenager struggled to get up from his prone position as he felt immense, nerve-wracking pain emanate from his beaten and battered body.

"About time you woke up," Yusuke Urameshi managed to say in between his borderline pneumonic wheezing. "I almost thought you died back there."

His eyes furrowed, Kuwabara noticed Yusuke's stare on him. It was as if his rival was expecting a response of some sort. "Humph. As if," he answered back, snorting in disdain.

"How long was I out of it? Thirty minutes? An hour? Or maybe more?" Kuwabara asked. He then snarled at the onset of a throbbing headache. He grit his teeth, wishing that he had an aspirin right about now.

"I-I just woke up myself," Yusuke responded just as soon as Kuwabara was able to get over his migraine, panting and gasping at the effort. He afterwards let out a horrendous cough that forced him to spit out yellow phlegm on the ground. He balked in disgust.

"Hey, you should have a doctor check that cough out," Kuwabara noted as he finally managed to sit up despite his weakened condition. 'Shit, even my ass is aching. Everything in my body is aching. It feels like I just run a marathon and forgot to stop. What happened?'

Dimly, Kuwabara's sleep-fuzzed mind remembered the fight... no, the war that he and Yusuke waged a short time ago. Or perhaps hours ago? He couldn't tell how long they were out of it. He eventually recalled several highlights of their exhausting battle.

"Wow. We were really going at it, weren't we? I mean, damn! I was practically carving canyons with my Jigen Tou! And you, you even had to go 'mazoku' just to keep up with my mad skills. Oh man, did you see the size of my sword? It's so big, I could..." Kuwabara ranted as he made use of his excited banter to distract himself from his current agony.

"..." Yusuke elucidated.

"What? You don't remember what happened in our fight?"

Yusuke looked at Kuwabara bewilderedly. "What in the blue hell," he gasped, "are you talking about?"

A far more pressing matter made itself known to Kuwabara once he regained his bearings. 'Hey, come to think of it-what in the world's going on here? What happened?' His eyes went as wide as saucers. 'Shit! My fight with Urameshi! Who the hell won? Did I...? Did Urameshi...?'

Ignoring his intense suffering through sheer willpower, Kuwabara grabbed Yusuke by his shoulders, shook him hard and demanded, "Who won, Urameshi? Who WON?"

Yusuke blinked. He scratched his left cheek and stated, "Well, you're not going to believe this, but..."

* * *

There was infinitesimal obscurity, a veritable abyss of oblivion. 'Gee, it's really dark.'

"..."

Kuwabara opened his eyes. Then there was light.

Kuwabara's vision adjusted to the faint deluge of luminescence. From there, he realized that he was staring straight into radiant lunacy. 'Huh. It's just the moon.' The lanky teenager struggled to get up from his prone position as he felt immense, nerve-wracking pain emanate from his beaten and battered body.

"About time you woke up," Yusuke Urameshi managed to say in between his borderline pneumonic wheezing. "I almost thought you died back there." His eyes furrowed, Kuwabara noticed Yusuke's stare on him. It was as if his rival was expecting a response of some sort. "Humph. As if," he answered back, snorting in disdain.

"How long was I out of it? Thirty minutes? An hour? Or maybe more?" Kuwabara asked. He then snarled at the onset of a throbbing headache. He grit his teeth, wishing that he had an aspirin right about now. "I-I just woke up myself," Yusuke responded just as soon as Kuwabara was able to get over his migraine, panting and gasping at the effort. He afterwards let out a horrendous cough that forced him to spit out yellow phlegm on the ground. He balked in disgust.

"Hey, you should have a doctor check that cough out," Kuwabara noted as he finally managed to sit up despite his weakened condition. 'Shit, even my ass is aching. Everything in my body is aching. It feels like I just run a marathon and forgot to stop. What happened?'

Dimly, Kuwabara's sleep-fuzzed mind remembered the fight... no, the war that he and Yusuke waged a short time ago. Or perhaps hours ago? He couldn't tell how long they were out of it. He eventually recalled several highlights of their exhausting battle.

"Wow. We were really going at it, weren't we? I mean, damn! I was practically carving canyons with my Jigen Tou! And you, you even had to go 'mazoku' just to keep up with my mad skills. Oh man, did you see the size of my sword? It's so big, I could..." Kuwabara ranted as he made use of his excited banter to distract himself from his current agony. "..." Yusuke elucidated.

"What? You don't remember what happened in our fight?"

Yusuke looked at Kuwabara bewilderedly. "What in the blue hell," he gasped, "are you talking about?"

A far more pressing matter made itself known to Kuwabara once he regained his bearings. 'Hey, come to think of it-what in the world's going on here? What happened?' His eyes went as wide as saucers. 'Shit! My fight with Urameshi! Who the hell won? Did I...? Did Urameshi...?' Ignoring his intense suffering through sheer willpower, Kuwabara grabbed Yusuke by his shoulders, shook him hard and demanded, "Who won, Urameshi? Who WON?"

Yusuke blinked. He scratched his left cheek and stated, "Well, you're not going to believe this, but..."

* * *

"And then?"

"What do you mean by, 'And then?'"

"Jackass. And then what happened?"

"Y'know. Stuff." Yusuke shrugged.

"Quit your bullshitting!" Kuwabara exclaimed in frustration, still excitable despite the incredibly fatigued state of his body. 'To think, the meteor shower of Rei-Kou-Dan, the mazoku transformation, and the sweet twin Jigen Tou were all just part of a strange, kick-ass dream. Shit, and it was such a cool dream, too! It felt so real. Okay, I guess that it _does_ make sense that it's just a dream, since it was kind of unbelievable. But still...'

"Why the hell would I dream such a dream?" Kuwabara muttered out loud.

Yusuke was not one to ponder, but he nonetheless supposed, "Maybe you were delirious because of blood loss." Chuckling at the cross look in his companion's face, he relented, "Or maybe it was just Munashii's little good-bye gift to you after he kicked the bucket. After all, dreams _are_ his specialty. That was how he got into Kurama's head in the first place, right?"

Kuwabara blinked at the thought. "Makes sense, I guess." He permitted himself a moment of respectful silence for the undead shadow man.

In between shallow gasps, Yusuke inquired, "Which reminds me. What possessed you to let Munashii, y'know, possess you again? I mean, didn't you hate his guts after he possessed you the first time? Whatever happened to your plans for revenge?"

In all seriousness, Kuwabara answered, "Aw, shut up."

"So you forgave him and formed a special bond with him? You became the best of buddies?"

"You better shut up or you'll be spitting out more than just phlegm, wheezy boy." Clearing his parched throat, Kuwabara explicated, "You're right. Dreams are Munashii's specialty. Through dreams he made me see the truth; it's not just about his dead girlfriend or his little soullessness problem, it's something much, much deeper. I now understand why he did what he did. I don't condone his actions, but he's not really the one to blame for them. I'm not sure if Botan already told you this, but..."

"Are you talking about the 'Book of Fate' and the fact that Munashii's chick was supposed to be reincarnated in Kurama's borrowed human body? Yeah, I already know about that. Botan already briefed me on those things before I started this mission," Yusuke confirmed.

"Heh. About fucking time the Spirit World figured things out." Kuwabara smirked sardonically. "A mission, eh? So they actually ordered you to take _ him_ out?"

Yusuke's lips tightened as he snorted. "I only do the Spirit World Detective thing as a favor to Koenma, and nothing else. I certainly don't have to answer to the Spirit World or to Enma Daio. Koenma already released me from my contract during the Makai Tournament, remember?"

"So in short, you probably wouldn't have hunted him down and killed him," Kuwabara concluded smugly. "So tell me, what were you planning to do once you catch the _real_ mastermind behind Munashii's shenanigans?"

Yusuke casually shrugged. "It's not like I ever plan any of my fights or missions in the first place."

Kuwabara harrumphed. "Typical. Not that I expected a different answer from you. You can't really expect too much from a one track mind."

"You're the one to speak."

"Think Mister Mastermind will ever change his mind?"

"He goes his own way. Let's leave the decision to him."

There was a pause, a cough, and random panting.

Kuwabara's eyes boggled. "Hey! Stop changing the subject! Don't think that I've already forgotten! Trying to pull a fast one on me, huh?" he accused as he aimed a clenched but shaky fist at Yusuke's face.

"Hey, hey! Take it easy!" Yusuke just barely caught up with his breath as he asked, "What's the matter, carrot top?"

"I wasn't born yesterday. I may have been daydreaming during most of the last half of our match, but my hunger for victory was still there. Even though I was barely conscious, I still wanted the win so very, very bad. I still fought with my everything while I was out of it, didn't I?"

Yusuke's eyes darted away from his lifelong nemesis's eyes. "Yeah. So?"

Dreading the answer but still morbidly curious, Kuwabara asked, "So what really happened during the last few seconds of the fight, Urameshi? Which one of us won? Was it you? Was it me? Stop beating around the bush and tell me!"

Yusuke twiddled his thumbs as he held his pseudo-asthmatic breath in anticipation of God-knew-what. "About that, I was really shocked by what happened, but even though I'd hate to admit it and it was probably just a fluke, I'm sorry to say that..."

Kuwabara's eyes brightened like two overexcited light bulbs. "Yeah? You're sorry to say what?"

"...You've lost yet again. Sorry, man." Yusuke condescendingly patted Kuwabara's shoulder.

Kuwabara's expression instantaneously shifted from barely contained enthusiasm to ego-crushing disappointment. "WHOOP-What? Hey!"

"Yeah, I know. Psych! I had you going there for a while." Yusuke maliciously grinned. "Well, what else did you expect?"

Kuwabara grumbled audibly, and sighed. After a few moments of piteous disgruntlement, the taller teen finally conceded. "Fine. Whatever. I should have figured as much seeing that I was knocked out and you weren't. But at least the fight kicked ass, right?"

"I've had better."

"Fuck you! Dammit, I want a rematch! I can definitely take you on now, you out-of-breath, half-demon bastard!"

"You're a class act. Kick 'em while they're down, huh? Not that you can actually kick me after what I did to your limbs. You're now as lame as you're lame."

"Now that was just retarded. Crack one more joke like that, and I'll pinch your nose until you suffocate. As far as I'm concerned, the fight ain't over until one of us is dead! Do you hear me? DEAD! Why I never...!"

Yusuke pointedly ignored Kuwabara's angry outburst as he reminisced the final moments of his fight with his most tenacious and persistent adversary ever.

* * *

"And then?"

"What do you mean by, 'And then?'"

"Jackass. And then what happened?"

"Y'know. Stuff." Yusuke shrugged.

"Quit your bullshitting!" Kuwabara exclaimed in frustration, still excitable despite the incredibly fatigued state of his body. 'To think, the meteor shower of Rei-Kou-Dan, the mazoku transformation, and the sweet twin Jigen Tou were all just part of a strange, kick-ass dream. Shit, and it was such a cool dream, too! It felt so real. Okay, I guess that it _does_ make sense that it's just a dream, since it was kind of unbelievable. But still...'

"Why the hell would I dream such a dream?" Kuwabara muttered out loud. Yusuke was not one to ponder, but he nonetheless supposed, "Maybe you were delirious because of blood loss." Chuckling at the cross look in his companion's face, he relented, "Or maybe it was just Munashii's little good-bye gift to you after he kicked the bucket. After all, dreams _are_ his specialty. That was how he got into Kurama's head in the first place, right?"

Kuwabara blinked at the thought. "Makes sense, I guess." He permitted himself a moment of respectful silence for the undead shadow man. In between shallow gasps, Yusuke inquired, "Which reminds me. What possessed you to let Munashii, y'know, possess you again? I mean, didn't you hate his guts after he possessed you the first time? Whatever happened to your plans for revenge?"

In all seriousness, Kuwabara answered, "Aw, shut up."

"So you forgave him and formed a special bond with him? You became the best of buddies?"

"You better shut up or you'll be spitting out more than just phlegm, wheezy boy." Clearing his parched throat, Kuwabara explicated, "You're right. Dreams are Munashii's specialty. Through dreams he made me see the truth; it's not just about his dead girlfriend or his little soullessness problem, it's something much, much deeper. I now understand why he did what he did. I don't condone his actions, but he's not really the one to blame for them. I'm not sure if Botan already told you this, but..."

"Are you talking about the 'Book of Fate' and the fact that Munashii's chick was supposed to be reincarnated in Kurama's borrowed human body? Yeah, I already know about that. Botan already briefed me on those things before I started this mission," Yusuke confirmed.

"Heh. About fucking time the Spirit World figured things out." Kuwabara smirked sardonically. "A mission, eh? So they actually ordered you to take _ him_ out?"

Yusuke's lips tightened as he snorted. "I only do the Spirit World Detective thing as a favor to Koenma, and nothing else. I certainly don't have to answer to the Spirit World or to Enma Daio. Koenma already released me from my contract during the Makai Tournament, remember?" "So in short, you probably wouldn't have hunted him down and killed him," Kuwabara concluded smugly. "So tell me, what were you planning to do once you catch the _real_ mastermind behind Munashii's shenanigans?" Yusuke casually shrugged. "It's not like I ever plan any of my fights or missions in the first place."

Kuwabara harrumphed. "Typical. Not that I expected a different answer from you. You can't really expect too much from a one track mind." "You're the one to speak."

"Think Mister Mastermind will ever change his mind?"

"He goes his own way. Let's leave the decision to him."

There was a pause, a cough, and random panting.

Kuwabara's eyes boggled. "Hey! Stop changing the subject! Don't think that I've already forgotten! Trying to pull a fast one on me, huh?" he accused as he aimed a clenched but shaky fist at Yusuke's face. "Hey, hey! Take it easy!" Yusuke just barely caught up with his breath as he asked, "What's the matter, carrot top?"

"I wasn't born yesterday. I may have been daydreaming during most of the last half of our match, but my hunger for victory was still there. Even though I was barely conscious, I still wanted the win so very, very bad. I still fought with my everything while I was out of it, didn't I?" Yusuke's eyes darted away from his lifelong nemesis's eyes. "Yeah. So?" Dreading the answer but still morbidly curious, Kuwabara asked, "So what really happened during the last few seconds of the fight, Urameshi? Which one of us won? Was it you? Was it me? Stop beating around the bush and tell me!"

Yusuke twiddled his thumbs as he held his pseudo-asthmatic breath in anticipation of God-knew-what. "About that, I was really shocked by what happened, but even though I'd hate to admit it and it was probably just a fluke, I'm sorry to say that..."

Kuwabara's eyes brightened like two overexcited light bulbs. "Yeah? You're sorry to say what?"

"...You've lost yet again. Sorry, man." Yusuke condescendingly patted Kuwabara's shoulder.

Kuwabara's expression instantaneously shifted from barely contained enthusiasm to ego-crushing disappointment. "WHOOP-What? Hey!" "Yeah, I know. Psych! I had you going there for a while." Yusuke maliciously grinned. "Well, what else did you expect?"

Kuwabara grumbled audibly, and sighed. After a few moments of piteous disgruntlement, the taller teen finally conceded. "Fine. Whatever. I should have figured as much seeing that I was knocked out and you weren't. But at least the fight kicked ass, right?"

"I've had better."

"Fuck you! Dammit, I want a rematch! I can definitely take you on now, you out-of-breath, half-demon bastard!"

"You're a class act. Kick 'em while they're down, huh? Not that you can actually kick me after what I did to your limbs. You're now as lame as you're lame."

"Now that was just retarded. Crack one more joke like that, and I'll pinch your nose until you suffocate. As far as I'm concerned, the fight ain't over until one of us is dead! Do you hear me? DEAD! Why I never...!"

Yusuke pointedly ignored Kuwabara's angry outburst as he reminisced the final moments of his fight with his most tenacious and persistent adversary ever.

* * *

_A few minutes earlier, at the stunning conclusion of Yusuke and Kuwabara's momentous, blood-and-guts fight..._

Yusuke Urameshi thought he had seen everything. He had seen an honorable and respectable fighter turn into an emotionless and cruel behemoth both inside and out. He had seen a rogue Spirit Detective's degeneration towards insanity because of his hatred of the human race. He had seen a demon who actually went against his species' natural instinct to consume humans for the sake of a tragic and undying love. Nevertheless, he had never seen anything quite like what he was seeing now.

After surviving the first crushing wave of the biggest Kiyodai Reikibou Yusuke had ever seen, his face paled at what happened next. True, his angelic barrier left him invulnerable to the overly large energy club that previously annihilated Toguro Ani in the Black Martial Arts Tournament, but even that was not enough to withstand the magnitude of power Kuwabara released from his second attack.

"Still not enough? Then let's do it again! KIYODAI REIKIBOU!"

The name 'Kiyodai Reikibou' was actually a misnomer for Kuwabara's next attack, because it was now composed of Sei Kou Ki instead of reiki... Sei Kou Ki absorbed from Yusuke's own celestial shield.

The 'Kiyodai Seikoukibou' overwhelmed the Sei Kou Ki by using the latter technique's own power against itself, forming into a never-ending, self-propagating wave of destruction. Like food cooked with its own juices, Sensui's most powerful skill ultimately defeated itself.

A gigantic geyser of pure, white-hot energy hundreds of feet high exploded from where Yusuke was standing earlier, blasting the aforementioned adolescent right into the night sky. A few seconds later, gravity enforced its will on the hapless and airborne Spirit Detective.

By the time Yusuke fell back into the rubble-strewn cemetery grounds, Kuwabara was already unconscious. But Kuwabara was still quite the sight to behold, with the tendrils of immaculate Sei Kou Ki dancing around his, strangely enough, heroic posture. He was like the emblematic Spirit World Poltergeist Warrior after defeating one of the Strongest of the Demon World.

Yusuke Urameshi had now officially seen everything. A few seconds later, he also succumbed to a long overdue sleep.

* * *

'A hundred and fifty-six petty losses to one major win? That's not bad at all. It's about time. After years of trying, I'd say the big lug deserves the win. He's already paid his dues. He really hit the jackpot this time,' Yusuke reflected, smiling wanly.

"...Do you want to mess with me? I'm game. Do you want both your lungs punctured? Do you still have the balls to fight? I'll let you know that I..."

'But I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he won,' Yusuke thought, his eyes furrowed. 'Right now, he thinks he didn't win and he _still_ won't let me hear the end of it. What more if he did know? Serves him right. Who knows? Maybe what I saw was just a fluke. Or was it just another dream? Hell, it was probably a nightmare!'

"...You don't have your mazoku blood or unlimited supply of spirit energy to fall back on now, do you? No wonder you're so afraid to fight! Now that we're on equal footing, it really shows-"

"HEY! Will. You. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. God, I'm running out of breath just _ listening_ to you whine."

"Want me to shut up? Make me. Come on. I'll take your breath away."

"No. I don't think so. Why should I do that? You're the one that should come to _me_. I wish you luck on that. Break a leg... or two."

After a few more hours of witless banter, slumber again claimed the two eternal rivals.

* * *

Keiko Yukimura walked silently in the darkness of the park, not noticing the inapt cobblestone road superimposed on the concrete ground. Crossing her arms for warmth as the chilly remnants of the winter solstice tousled her hair, she shyly spied the bench she sat on yesterday. She pouted.

'So he didn't come here after all,' she thought dolefully before she caught herself. 'Ah. Why am I thinking such weird things? I just came over here to thank him, that's all.' She looked at her watch. It was seven o'clock. She briefly wondered if her parents had noticed her slip out of the house before quelling that thought as well.

'He wasn't at the station either, but considering that we have different schedules-Ah, that's just silly of me,' she thought at the back of her mind as she sat down for a bit on the wooden bench. 'I didn't even really want to see him after last night.'

She slowly got up after hearing the crickets begin to chirp. 'I have to remind myself that it was only a one time thing. Shimizu is too far away from Isesaki. I have to be realistic.' Her eyes became determined. 'Well, he's obviously not here, so that's one bridge that I don't have to cross.'

"Keiko-san," a voice softly beckoned.

After her initial shock, Keiko couldn't even bring herself to turn around.

"So you're still replaying this memory in your dreams. I hope it's not because of anything I said or did," Kurama earnestly stated. He already knew that it was pointless to hide any of his innermost thoughts in the Dream World; he therefore decided to let things be, since this was the best way to make all of his good-byes sincere and honest. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

'So this is just a dream?' Keiko stirred, unable to meet the gaze of what she thought was the object of her imagination. "You never did anything of the sort to me, Kurama-san."

"That's nice to hear," Kurama admitted, pensively adding, "I know it sounds corny, but it seems that I'm not the only one who wanted to etch this moment in my memory for all eternity," which embarrassed Keiko.

There was a lengthy pause. "Y-You misunderstand. I have to do this. I have to make this dream my own. I won't rest until I do so," she clarified.

"That's very daring of you," Kurama praised. After that, he took a long, deep breath, even though his ethereal body didn't have any need for air. "Keiko-san, I have something important to tell you." And so he did. Everything he told Kaito earlier, he told Keiko. In the entire course of the story, the young girl's facial expressions shifted from happy to sad, surprise to shock, and fear to outright denial.

Before Kurama could finish his narrative, Keiko interrupted him, saying, "No! NO! You have to stop this right now. Why do you have to do this, Kurama-san? If Yusuke knew about this, then he'd be sure to stop you!"

"I know. And so would Hiei. That's why I sent Taka-kun to stop them both. It's all for the best, I assure you. It's very important for me to finish this quest of mine. Although you might actually hate me for it, I _must_ do this. It's all for Asuka-san's-"

"I don't care about Asuka-san!" Keiko cried out. She hastily apologized, amending, "I don't hate you or Asuka-san for it, but I hate the fact that you have to do this," Keiko confessed, teary eyed. "Why? Why do you have to keep every last promise you make? Why do you have to feel responsible for everyone around you? Why do you have to be so sincere about your feelings? WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO NICE?"

"..."

Silence again passed the pair in an unhurried pace.

Strangely enough, tittering laughter soon followed.

Keiko giggled in between her sobs, reiterating, "Why do you have to be so nice, Kurama-san?"

Kurama moved towards Keiko in concern, but his unease was lifted by the slightly relieved glint in her eyes. She quickly wiped away her tears. "So aren't you going to answer my question? I do think I deserve to know before you... leave."

Kurama coughed once before answering, "I'm not all that sure about me being nice, but like you said before, I couldn't stand being dishonest about my feelings. I have come to love Minamino Shuichi's honesty so much, I've decided to emulate it. I've realized that I owe so much from Shuichi... no, from Asuka-san... that I'll do anything for her. That's the truth."

There was half a minute of stillness that Kurama felt everlastingly. "Keiko-san?"

After a moment of hesitation, Keiko smiled curiously at Kurama's reply. "Wow. You're so different from before. You've changed. You're not second-guessing yourself anymore. So you did find your answer!" she nearly squealed in excitement before catching herself.

The young girl's eyes were filled with obvious worry, despite her smile. "Though I still don't understand why you have to sacrifice yourself for Asuka-san's sake, I'm glad you've found your moment of clarity."

"I owe a lot of that clarity from you."

Keiko's face flushed. "It was my pleasure. I'll always cherish that special moment of ours." She proceeded to give Kurama a quick peck on the cheek. She bit her lip, her features containing a strange mixture of determination and anxiety. "Don't get me wrong, Kurama-san. I trust your judgment completely, but I sincerely hope that this is what you truly want."

"I hope so too," Kurama confessed and left it at that.

And so Kurama left Keiko to make her dream her own. Unbeknownst to him, a doppelganger of his soon appeared before the young girl. She went on to tell him, the double, all the things she was too afraid to tell the real Kurama; all her frustrations, all her thoughts, and all her feelings. She openly cried, asking the fantasy half-youko to not leave her like the real one did.

But Kurama never had a chance to go back to the park and see just how much his good-bye affected Keiko. He was too concentrated on continuing his travels on the cobblestone road-a journey that would ultimately lead to Shuichi Minamino's rebirth.

* * *

_A bleary, fractured memory from a lifetime ago, inside Yaminade no Itsuki's pocket dimension..._

Kurama reminisced, yet he could not get a proper handle on his thoughts for some reason. His head churned like a hurricane, making his musings disorganized and chaotic, whilst his mind filled all of his memory gaps with haphazard guesswork and leaps of logic that were sure to contain a number of factual inaccuracies. Nevertheless, he more or less remembered everything.

Four people-"Seaman" Kiyoshi Mitarai, Jaganshi Hiei, Kurama, and Kazuma Kuwabara-floated alongside Itsuki inside his sinister prison of lifeless nothingness as they all bore witness to Shinobu Sensui and Yusuke Urameshi's epic battle, their vision blurring against a deluge of perplexing luminescence.

The four all winced in unison at the intensity of the searing light force which suffused Sensui's tall, gangly frame. From there, they realized that they were staring straight into pure radiance as the golden glow spread all over the former Spirit Detective's body.

The koorime half-breed was a tense bundle of nerves, shivering as he felt the tingling sensation of foreboding crawl down his back like a thousand centipedes. He sensed it; the dreadful, nauseating mass of blessed energy that filled the entirety of the cave and affected even this 'limbo' that he and the others currently occupied. Bemused, he reluctantly focused on the peculiar but overwhelming feeling.

Behind Hiei, the noisy and deranged Kuwabara was letting out unnerving prattle; the orange-haired human appeared to be looking for some sort of last-minute divine intervention, or miraculous reprieve... at the very least, a bit of reassurance from his compatriots... in regards to Yusuke's safety.

"Yusuke is going to die," Kurama matter-of-factly declared, the sadness in his voice knowing no depths, no bounds. "An A-level like him is simply no match against an S-Level like Sensui; the difference in power is far too great. He might as well have wished for the sun to stop in the sky."

"No. That can't be," Kuwabara murmured, his mind unprepared to handle the truth even now, his thoughts churning like a hurricane. He truly was the most sensitive of the four of them; he wore his heart on his sleeve, something that Kurama both admired and envied.

"Do you see the look in his eyes, Kuwabara? Those are the eyes of a dead man walking. He knows he can't win. This situation isn't any different from when you sacrificed yourself to Toguro so that he could unleash his true power. We all need to sacrifice some things, even ourselves, for the good of the people we love, and we're not in the position to judge Yusuke and his decision."

A black silence fell once Kurama finished, like the stillness of a tomb. Everyone stared at him as if he'd been talking gibberish. Or as if he'd grown a second head. All then froze in ominous, incomprehensible shock as the world held its breath. They all felt it; the end was coming.

"Stop it, Kurama! You're not helping! C'mon, Jigen Tou! Goddammit, JIGEN TOU!"

Unceremoniously, Sensui unleashed the roar of the hallowed heavens, his radiating hand making an eerie droning sound as it was launched, followed by an deafening crack after he accelerated in the air. It moved so fast that it was ignited by friction, turning into a streak of white flame, a vengeful shooting star from the heavens sent by the angels themselves.

Ignoring the screaming mass of pain that used to be the right side of his body, Yusuke charged proudly, foolishly, and magnificently, his face a murderous mask of rage that promised dire vengeance on anyone who got in his way. Because, goddammit, if he was going to die, then he'd do it like a real man.

After a few seconds, Kuwabara found the desperate strength to summon the Jigen Tou and help the four of them escape Itsuki's shadowy clutches. But he was exactly a few seconds too late.

The next shot of Yusuke was of him flying through the air, with searing-hot blood gushing from his chest. He landed hard on the ground, and Sensui proclaimed him dead.

It was during that moment of unremitting rage that Kurama uttered words that, in contrast to the rest of his splintered recollection, came about in crystal certainty, revealing heartfelt feelings that flowed out of his mouth accidentally, unthinkingly, and unbidden: "No matter whom, I ate missing any one of the four of us."

Kurama had lived for hundreds of years; his mental development was very deep and far, so he couldn't easily tell his true feelings. But at that one time, he revealed the true feelings of his heart.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Kurama's Death Scene continues.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Ja ne!  
Abdiel


	20. Chapter 19: Rebirth 2

_"When I became a man, I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grownup."  
_(C.S. Lewis, 1947)

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Tomorrow, C&Cs will cease to exist. Give yours out today while you still can. _Nanchatte._

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

* * *

** Chapter 19: Rebirth (Part 2)**

* * *

"Hey! Kurama-sama! Kurama-san! Kurama-kun!" beckoned an adorably shrill voice just as Kurama trotted past Kaito's dream of Meiou High School, still following the straight and narrow path to his good-byes.

As Kurama turned, a large bead of sweat dripped just above his left eyebrow. 'Who was that? And what's with all the honorifics?' He looked around his immediate surroundings, but saw nothing. 'I'm not just hearing things, am I?'

"Up here, Kurama! ABOVE YOU!"

Kurama blinked and looked up. "Ah. Botan! What a surprise." He cocked an eyebrow as he cautiously asked, "What are you doing here in the Dream World? How did you get here?"

"I'm here to help, silly!" Botan chided as she slowly descended from her place above the clouds. Upon landing on the cobblestone path, she got off her oar and declared, "Originally, Tetsuma only had the power of manipulating life force; all his other powers, he gained as a shinigami. A 'ferry-girl' is basically a shinigami, only cuter. In so saying, I also have the power to go into the dreams of others."

"Uh, okay. That's nice to know," Kurama supposed, supplementing, "I still don't understand why you'd help me now of all times, but I guess it's the thought that counts. So what can the Spirit World do for me?"

Botan seemed bowled over by Kurama's question, but she nonetheless continued, "It'll take you forever to get to the first pillar of light at the rate you're going, so I figured that I could get you there much faster by flying on my oar. Furthermore," her eyes shifted from left to right before she willed herself to calm down and mumble several unintelligible words.

"Pardon?"

"I said I wanted to make sure of something!" Botan exclaimed, hiding her rosy cheeks behind the folds of her kimono sleeves. She shifted her foot in embarrassment. "I also wanted to do something that I've wanted to do for a long, long time, and this may be my last chance to do so." Kurama winced at her words.

Taking deep and relaxing breaths, Botan timidly walked towards Kurama, startling him. The half-youko spirit, in turn, looked at her anxiously with a fervent gaze that seemed to bore holes upon her person until all that was left was her bare and shivering soul.

"Excuse me," Botan muttered as she gently took hold of Kurama's hand. There were traces of nervousness in the tall, crimson-haired adolescent's unnecessary breathing as she wrapped his arm around her slim waist.

Botan sighed with bated breath as she drew Kurama near her. So there they were, face-to-face. Their mutual anxiety and embarrassment were practically palpable in the atmosphere-laden air around them.

"W-What did you want to make sure of?" Kurama finally stuttered in apprehension, his voice almost cracking. He nonetheless stood his ground. In a mellower intonation, he managed to say, "Botan, before anything else, I have to tell you..."

"I already know everything. I already know about your 'death scene', and your good-byes," Botan disclosed. She bit her lip as she looked straight into Kurama's olive eyes. Her own eyes were moist with withheld tears as she confessed, "And to be honest, it really hurt my feelings that you intentionally planned to not say good-bye to me from the start."

Kurama quickly backpedaled, explaining, "Botan, it's nothing personal. Truth be told, I was so afraid that the Spirit World would-"

Botan hushed Kurama by placing a finger on his lips. "It doesn't matter. What's important is that I'm here, and you're here. Let's say our good-byes here and now and be done with it."

"Okay, if that's what you want." Kurama smiled. "By the way," he began, "what did you want to make sure of?"

Without missing a beat, Botan whispered, "I want to know the truth about my feelings," which surprised Kurama. "Don't worry. I have no expectations," she whispered tenderly, with an aching need behind her indistinct request.

"Eh? Expectations? What do you...?"

Soft lips met with smooth ones as Botan gently puckered hers almost playfully, teasingly. The innocent, buttery-soft peck quickly dissolved into a deeper kiss; it was so intense that it was as if they were gasping into each other's mouths because that was the only way the could keep themselves from suffocating.

The rest of the Dream World eventually melted into inconsequence. As soon as the kiss started, it stopped. As their lips parted, Kurama was left dumbfounded.

Botan's knees buckled in shock. Instinctively, her other hand flew up and grabbed his shoulder for support as she sagged against him. What was happening to her? Why was she losing control over her bodily functions? She couldn't understand it; either that, or she was in denial and she knew exactly what was going on. Nevertheless, she continued to feign ignorance, even to herself.

Botan sighed dreamily. 'Wow.'

After a few minutes of mystified blissfulness, repentance and regret soon followed. "I'm sorry," Kurama instinctively blurted out, lifting Botan up to her feet and bowing to her apologetically.

'Way to ruin the mood, Romeo,' Botan thought with half-lidded eyes and pouted lips. 'He's _sorry? _Why? Was it that bad? Is it because Hiei's a better kisser? Honestly, can't he just...?'

"I mean..." Kurama scratched the back of his head laughingly at the chagrined Botan, humbly stating, "Thank you. Thank you very much."

Botan halted in the middle of her mental rant. After a few more moments of poignant silence, she smiled and blushed. "You're very welcome," she replied pleasantly. "Consider it your good-bye kiss," she added with a wink.

Kurama insisted, "But still, I'm really sorry that I never intended to say good-bye to you in the first place. I hope that the... the k-kiss made up for it." He recoiled after realizing what he just said. "Oh, excuse me! I don't know what possessed me to say that. I-I don't know what I'm saying."

Botan coyly grinned, beaming. "You're cute when you're all flustered and confused." She reassuringly patted Kurama's back. "Don't worry about it. You don't need to apologize. All is forgiven."

Kurama blinked. "Are you sure that you're okay with it?"

"I don't see why we should dwell on such things. We should let bygones be bygones, don't you think?" Botan summoned her oar. "Hop on. This beautiful and ravishing Angel of Death is about to assist you with your good-byes and your honorable suicide!"

"I wouldn't put it that way, but thanks again," Kurama noted, feeling a droplet of sweat trickle just above his eyebrow for a second time. He wiped it with his free hand as he climbed on the wooden paddle. 'Aside from Yusuke, only Botan could make me sweat bullets like this. She truly is quite a girl,' he reflected, taking note of Botan's demure smile after she heard his thoughts.

"So tell me," Kurama probed, "did you find your, um, truth?"

Botan laughed. "Well now, I do believe that's my business. A girl has to have her secrets, doesn't she?" she teasingly replied. Her previous feeling of consternation began to engulf her again, but she ignored it once more.

Very quickly, the pair espied a tower-like pillar of light that stretched up into infinity. Passing through the splendor of the bright, multicolored river that made up the aurora borealis that surrounded it, they marveled at the luminescent column's simple majesty.

"So this is it," Botan declared as she circled around the surprisingly immense structure. "Where do I drop you off? I don't exactly see an entrance anywhere."

"Let's go straight into the light," Kurama instructed Botan with a fair amount of certainty. "A very important person is somewhere inside that pillar."

"All right. If you're sure, you're sure. Let's go."

Kurama nodded in kind. "She's been waiting for me after all this time. She needs to know the truth." And so the pair headed straight for the colossal beam of radiance.

"Kurama?" Botan tentatively called out.

"Yes?" Kurama responded.

"So this person you're going to is a 'she', right?"

Kurama's moment of hesitation was far too lengthy for Botan's tastes. "...Yes."

"So who is she?" Botan nonchalantly inquired, a strangely alarming smile plastered on her face.

Kurama gulped. He could hear Botan's cyclic mantra of 'I have no expectations' at the back of her mind, which made him feel oddly tense. "Why do you want to know?"

"That's not the answer to my question, Kurama." There was an almost imperceptible hint of acrimony in Botan's voice. Kurama again winced at her words, but for a different reason than before.

"Are you going to kiss her too?"

Rather than go through the difficulty of stumbling through sentences and figuratively walking on eggshells, Kurama opted to simply plead, "Can we not talk about this, Botan?"

Botan casually shrugged. "Fine. It's not really any of my business."

Kurama was far too privy to the intricacies of feminine psychology to not see through the true meaning behind Botan's 'Fine.' Without any further prodding, he relented, "It's Kitajima Maya-san."

Botan stirred. "Who?"

"She's a girl that I knew back when I was about the same age as Yusuke and Kuwabara-kun. She was a classmate of mine in Junior High."

"Was she a girlfriend of yours?" Botan queried.

"She was a close friend of mine," Kurama clarified.

"How close?"

"Close enough to matter." Kurama cleared his throat. "Actually, I'm not even going to say good-bye to the real Maya-san, but to an image of her in my mind. A memory, if you will."

There was a puzzled look on Botan's face. "Why is that?"

"Because I'd endangered her life by getting too close to her." Kurama averted Botan's subsequent gaze, opting to stare at the psychedelic rainbow sky. "In order to protect her from ever getting involved with demons and evil spirits, I gave her mind-controlling pollens to make her forget about me. Now all that's left of her to me is a memory. She doesn't remember a thing about me, even though I myself can't forget about her. Ironic, isn't it?"

Botan supposed, "So the Maya-san in your mind is some sort of personified guilt-trip, huh?"

Kurama smirked in concurrence to Botan's assessment. "Something like that," he assented.

During their momentary gap of mutual, leisurely silence, they quickly realized something that should have been fairly obvious to them had they been paying attention to their task at hand. Because of their rather extensive conversation, they missed the pillar of light by about a mile.

"Oops! Sorry! Let's circle back and try again," Botan shamefacedly appealed while Kurama's sweat beaded into large drops thrice over.

As they awkwardly flew back to their intended destination, Botan broke the ice by giggling and sharing, "Keiko-chan's right. You really are a good guy, Kurama. You don't have to do all of these 'good-byes' of yours, yet you feel compelled to do so. You also didn't have to explain anything to me about 'Maya-san', but you still did. Asuka-san's a lucky girl to have you as her protector and savior."

"I'm glad that you think so," Kurama said as he sighed in relief. This may actually be his last night of existence, so he certainly didn't want to leave on a sour note.

"People can't help but admire you for your selflessness. Maya-san probably did. Even Keiko-chan did. Even I..." Botan closed her eyes in consternation. "But have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, people don't want you to act so selflessly? That your very selflessness can hurt the very same people? That, even though you'd go through heaven and hell to save Asuka-san, there are people who'd also go through heaven and hell just to save you from yourself?"

"I've considered that. But the bottom line is, unless they're willing to endure what I've endured to save Asuka-san, they won't be able to 'save' me. They have to know the true meaning of going through heaven and hell before they can even hope to go against my will," Kurama declared, which dismayed Botan all the more.

Botan once again quieted down for perpetuity contained within an awkward moment as she contemplated Kurama's avowal. Before long, they were but mere seconds away from the resplendent column.

"Well, here we are." Botan squeezed her shoulder in apprehension. "Before anything else, there's something I have to tell you. I'd like to talk to you about the kiss..."

"Botan, I'm sorry to say this, but I don't think we have the time-"

"Please, listen to me first. I... To tell you the truth, it was..."

Just as the pair finally reached the shining pillar, a powerful and radiant pulse knocked both of them off the paddle and into the colorful night sky. After an instant of mutual shock and confusion, the pair simultaneously realized that they were falling.

"Kurama!"

"Botan!"

Botan quickly righted herself, beckoning the wooden oar to come back to her. Once she regained her ability of flight, she frantically searched the skies for any sign of her fallen comrade.

"Kurama, where are you?"

"Over here!" Kurama's tone was faint, almost muffled.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Botan eventually located the hapless half-youko. He was trapped within the pillar of light, his body a soft blur of gold as it continued to succumb to the laws of gravity.

Botan maneuvered her paddle of flight to follow Kurama's descent in the gigantic, tube-like pilaster. Upon reaching him, she directed, "Kurama! Grab my hand!"

Kurama tried to do as Botan said, but to no avail. "There's some sort of barrier inside the pillar! I can't get my hand through!" Kurama's voice was harsh and tinny inside the luminous edifice.

"No! Not yet! Not this way! I haven't told you about-"

"Good-bye, Botan," Kurama bid farewell with melancholic finality. "Will you please say good-bye to Koenma for me?" Strange sparkles seemed to surround the young man as he added, "Don't worry about the kiss so much. It was... nice."

Kurama never saw Botan's reaction to his last statement. Seemingly taken aback by his heartfelt words, she halted her descent in the middle of her rescue effort. The ferry-girl's image promptly faded away, swallowed by the neon sky as the kitsune plunged deep into the sea of immaculate white.

* * *

_A memory of a dream from many months ago..._

As Kurama's vision became clear, all he saw now was a smiling Maya. He looked around his surroundings. Sure enough, he saw the same street where he and Maya used to walk home from school together. The situation was set in the same afternoon sun. Every detail of their daily routine was there in full lucidity.

Maya offered a congratulatory smile, saying, "Well done, Shuichi-san. Well done."

"What was 'well done', Maya-san?" Kurama asked, in awe of Maya's image before him. He had many other things to say-many things to explain to her, or at least to the Maya inside of him-but he didn't know how.

"I think what Shuichi-san did was worth the congratulations," Maya explained, smiling enigmatically. Seeing Kurama's confused face, she continued.

"You haven't realized it? You have made this dream into your own dream, Shuichi-san; just like Keiko-san suggested," the specter praised. She afterwards melancholically sighed. "I am able to address who Keiko-san is although in reality I've never met her, but your subconscious doesn't even allow me to call you by any name other than 'Shuichi-san.'"

Kurama was about to mutter a hangdog apology when Maya signaled for him to stop.

"I am happy being what I am now, an image in your mind, because I am glad that somehow, you've let me in your heart. This is enough," she stated, wiping a tear away. "I am happy that when you made this dream your own, I was a part of it. I'm more than glad to be part of your dreams, Shuichi-san. Never forget that."

* * *

_Back to the present, inside the golden pillar of light... _

As Kurama's vision became clear, all he saw now was a smiling Maya. He surveyed his surroundings. Instead of the expected veil of light, he saw the avenue where he and Maya used to walk home from school together. Every last aspect of their habitual tradition was there in complete lucidity.

And it was indeed true; every _last_ detail of their daily routine was present in the dream. As Kurama looked at his reflection on a nearby car's windshield, he was astounded by what he saw. His hair was cut short and his build was more slender. He was also a few inches shorter than before. He quickly put two and two together. 'I'm... fourteen again?'

Maya was the first one to speak, asking, "Hmmm? Did you say something, Shuichi-san?"

"Ah, no! Nothing," Kurama assured, silently wondering if it was really a good idea to make all his thoughts open to everyone in the Dream World. He wanted to say more, but he still had no idea how to break things to her. He still didn't know how to say good-bye to a memory that he clung onto for so long. He inhaled deeply. 'I better calm down.'

"Shuichi-san always has so many things to think about. Such is the life of a genius, ne?" she cheered, inadvertently using the same joke Keiko quipped once upon a time.

"You exaggerate," he said with a half-smile, and then said nothing more.

"The sun is so beautiful when it's setting, isn't it? I just love sunsets," Maya conversationally started, openly smiling. "Like Midas's touch, the fading sunlight makes everything turn into gold."

Kurama rubbed the back of his head, consigning himself to his 'boy-next-door' act. "I agree. I never get tired of watching sunsets. That's one of the main reasons why I love walking you home from school."

Maya giggled gaily as she mockingly surmised, "I see. So basically you're saying that the sunset's more important to you than hanging out with dreary old me?"

"Yup," Kurama jokingly responded, chuckling in kind as his earlier fears started to dissipate. "But as much as I love sunsets, I love the stars at night even more."

"Oh, please give me the 'star's death' speech again! I've only heard it about a zillion times!" was Maya's tongue-in-cheek riposte as she blithely rolled her eyes at Kurama.

Kurama let out an affable laugh. "Sorry about that. I do tend to repeat myself." He felt more and more relaxed as the feeling of wistfulness slowly engulfed him. "On the other hand, even though it's admittedly heartbreaking to see a star fade away, its death isn't really all that pitiful compared to a star that dies in a blaze of glory. The fact that it's tragic is where its true beauty lies."

Kurama checked out Maya's reaction. "I'm not boring you again, am I?"

Maya shook her head. "No, don't be silly. As usual, you've shared a very interesting and thought-provoking treatise," she kidded, imitating Kurama's overzealous use of deep words. "As for me, I think it's all very romantic, if not sad."

"Sad?"

"Yes, sad. It's very, very sad. Though I agree with you that a fading star is not without its charm and romance, it's still very much tragic. Who wants to see a star fade away anyway?"

They heard the rustle of trees from a distance. Maya tilted her head, querying, "What's the matter, Shuichi-san? Is something wrong?"

Finally summoning the courage to divulge everything to her, Kurama started, "Maya-san, I have something important to tell you. It's about...!"

But before Kurama could continue what could have been a good ten minute narrative, it took only all of two seconds for Maya to say, "I know."

"You do?" Kurama cocked his head quizzically at Maya as she bobbed hers in concurrence. "I can understand why Botan already knew, but how did you find out?"

"I found out because I'm just a figment of your imagination. Remember, I'm but a memory of yours. I'm a part of your mind. Heck, I even know who 'Botan' is, even though I've never met her."

"Wait, so you've been leading me on all this time? Why didn't you just tell me that you knew?" Kurama queried, more in shock than in anger.

"Nonsense. We haven't had a heart-to-heart talk in a long time, that's all." Maya looked at the dimming sky. It was already twilight. She pensively added, "Nowadays, you rarely daydream about me. I miss our little talks."

Kurama held Maya's hand and squeezed it a little bit. "I'm sorry. I guess it's partly because I got fed up by all the dreams Taka-kun kept putting in my head."

Maya playfully flicked Kurama's nose, a familiar gesture to the kitsune. "Now don't lie to yourself. You've been forgetting about me long before 'Taka-kun' reared his bishonen head. The real reason is that you've simply outgrown me."

"You know I can't do that. Crazy as it is for me to have an imaginary friend, I still kept you around, didn't I?"

Maya smiled wryly. "This conversation is getting us nowhere, Shuichi-san."

Kurama took a deep breath, remembering Yusuke's advice to him from way back last summer. 'Don't beat around the bush. Go straight to the point.'

"It's fairly obvious that it's tough for me to let you go, since you've been around my mind for so long. I know all I need to say is good-bye, then it'd be all over. But the problem is, I couldn't bring myself to say the words. Botan's probably right: I can't help but keep my 'personified guilt-trip' around. That's just the way I am."

"That's sweet, but you really have nothing more to say to me. To be honest, I'm not the one who you should be saying good-bye to."

"What do you-?"

"She's here," Maya whispered as she motioned towards the intersection in front of them. As Kurama turned, he did a double take at what he saw.

Just across the street in front of Kurama was a slumbering 'twin' of the Maya in his mind, floating above the pavement like an eerie phantom. The sleeping Maya was slightly older than her imaginary counterpart, about sixteen years of age.

Somehow finding his voice, Kurama addressed the fourteen-year-old Maya, asking, "What's going on here? Why are there two of you, Maya-san?"

"I believe it's about time you came clean. This is the person who you should be saying good-bye to, Shuichi-san. The only way you can truly bid me farewell is to tell her everything. She," the imaginary Maya motioned towards her unconscious self, "is the real Maya. Your former friend and classmate; the girl you gave selective amnesia to two years ago."

"This... is Maya-san? The _real_ Maya-san?"

He couldn't believe his eyes. It was her. After all these years, he finally saw her again.

So many questions filled him as he kept staring at her, his green eyes almost shining with amazement... And yet, in that moment, he couldn't find his voice to ask a single one.

Her face. Pale, yet radiant in the cool starlight.

Her hair. Long, unbelievably long, tangled and wild.

Her body, lithe and smooth... taller somehow... her loose pajamas couldn't hide the soft, delicate and familiar curve of her shape...

His mouth felt suddenly, impossibly dry.

And her face. She had always been pretty to his eyes, but now, in her more mature form, she was breathtakingly ravishing. The fact that she was unconscious made her all the more alluring; his sleeping beauty.

'Maya-san. I'm glad to see that you're doing okay after all these years. But still...'

After a fair amount of quiet contemplation and deliberation, Kurama nearly demanded, "Why are you doing this? This is pointless. Do you hate the fact that I'm saying good-bye to you instead of the real Maya-san?"

Maya's smile was promptly replaced by pursed lips and downtrodden eyes. "No. I hate the fact that, after you're gone, there won't even be a memory of you in the real Maya-san's mind. For her, it's as if you've disappeared completely off the face of the Earth, like you never existed."

"It's better that way," was Kurama's succinct reply.

"How is it better? How can it possibly be better?" Maya queried, almost challenged.

"She's been living her life quite well without me, so I don't see the point in making her know things she doesn't need to know. I do believe that this time, ignorance truly is bliss," Kurama rationalized as he felt his discomfort rise.

"That's a lie," Maya patently declared. "I'm a part of your mind. I can tell when you're lying and when you're simply in denial. Actually, after all these years, you finally have come to the point where you _want _to tell Maya-san the truth. It's time to let go. Free yourself. Enough of the lies."

"I can't, I won't, and that's no lie. What could she possibly get out of the truth? The very reason I removed part of her memories was because she knew too much." Kurama adamantly stared eye-to-eye at the equally defiant Maya.

"This would have been what she wanted; it's what you want to do as well. Please, do her... us... this one favor. Trust me, I know her. I am her. This is what _we_ truly want."

"You can't be sure of that. You're just an impression that Maya left in my mind. You're an idealized picture of what could have been, nothing more."

"Don't second-guess yourself so much; you were a lot closer to her than you give yourself credit for. You knew almost everything about her: her insecurities, her shyness, her crush on you, the way she shares your passion for literature, philosophy, and the arts; I'm a reflection of all that. I'm neither a figment of your imagination nor a personified guilt-trip. I am Maya-san."

"No, you're not. And I know what I need to do. Even though I want to tell her the truth, what needs to be done goes beyond that. I've said my piece, so we should let this matter rest. I came here to say good-bye, and that's what I'm going to do. Good-bye, Maya-san."

The illusory world of Kurama's childhood memories housed within the pillar of light started to fade away as the red-haired ghost began his trek anew. Springtime was nearing its end.

The pubescent and conscious Maya, in either panic or desperation, nearly pleaded, "Why couldn't you talk to her the same way you'd talk to me? You were always so quiet and secretive around her. Why can't you be more honest with her?"

Kurama paused and, for a second, seemed reluctant to answer. "I didn't want to hurt her. And I also don't want to hurt you. I don't want either of you to get hurt because of me. Why can't we just let things be? This is what I want to remember before I die."

"Wait. Let me get this straight: Before you die, you want to remember seeing yourself chicken out on telling Maya-san the truth about you? That's preposterous!" the willful Maya countered, livid and seemingly oblivious to what was happening around her. The golden pillar of light was already dimming from the inside out, judging by the way the surrounding environs was disappearing into nothingness.

"Why must you continue to lie to her and to yourself? There's more to you than just Kurama!" Seeing Kurama stop in mid-stride, Maya prodded, "I know! I've met the true Minamino Shuichi! Why can't you let her know about that part of you? Why can't you tell her about your philosophies on human nature? Your likes and dislikes? Before you disappear from the world altogether, she deserves to know the truth! The truth is what she really needs!"

Just before everything inside the pillar of light faded forever into obscurity, the young Maya's eyes widened in surprise. "Kurama. I just said Kurama. That's your real name, isn't it?" She smiled sweetly as she hastily wiped the tears that formed in the corners of her eyes. At long last, the Maya in Kurama's mind was finally able to call him by his real name.

"Thank you," the imaginary Maya gratefully said before being swallowed by the converging darkness.

Before everything melted into inconsequence, the older, slumbering Maya finally awoke, mouthing Kurama's name. She afterwards stopped levitating altogether, falling into the vanishing earth like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

From Kuronue's pendant, a surging torrent of glowing plasma seared through the inky shadows, piercing Kurama and exploding in a brilliant sphere of light that nearly blindsided him as it bounced back and splashed all over his astral body. Covering his eyes with an arm, he braced himself and waited for the light to fade.

* * *

_A memory from what seemed to be an eternity ago..._

Kurama stared at the ceiling of his room. As a youkai, he had his own sort of third eye for sensing trouble. But that was usually reserved for sneak attacks or for recognizing the ki of his enemies during battle. His sense of premonition in this situation was completely different. A sense that humans were more familiar with: that feeling of dread when something bad was about to happen. Through this feeling came a jargon of semi-coherent thought.

'What if Munashii suddenly goes after Yusuke or Kuwabara? The odds are certainly against them, with him having beaten Hiei. How is Hiei faring anyway? I hope he survives. What if this _thing_ goes after me? I think I can handle it; but what about my mother...?'

Kurama froze at the last thought. There was a noise coming from his mother's room; something akin to metal clanking on the floor. He instinctively ran for his parent, fearing the worst. He heaved a sigh of relief once he got there. She was just doing some needlework when her toolkit accidentally fell. She looked a bit startled though, and was now looking at Kurama with worry in her eyes.

"Shuichi. Is there something wrong?" his mother asked.

Kurama let out a slight laugh. "No, nothing's wrong, kaasan. I was just surprised by the noise. What are you doing?"

'Shuichi's' mother brightened up with his last statement. "I've decided to take up needlework as a hobby, son. I'm a little rough at it, though. I haven't done this since I was a child." She let out a delicate laugh, to which Kurama could not help but laugh with as well. It had always reminded him of tinkling bells ever since he first heard it as a child.

To this an animated discussion on needlework followed. Actually, it was more like Kurama listening and Shiori making detailed accounts about the wonderful world of needle and thread. This kind of situation may bore to death any other boy his age, but Kurama had high regard and respect for his mother and whatever she did.

After their brief conversation ended, Kurama left Shiori with her new hobby. He mouthed the words, "Sayonara, kaasan. Ai shiteiru," in the doorway of his mother's room, to which he got the silent reply of "Good night, Shuichi. I love you too."

In the outer hallway of the Minamino residence, Kurama swore to himself, 'I won't let any monster touch my kaasan. Not even one hair.'

* * *

The early morning sky appeared instantaneously, winking into unnatural existence like a bad cut scene from a low-budget movie; nevertheless, it was still a gorgeous sight to behold. The weather was nice and sunny, with just a hint of moisture left over from the morning dew. The air wafted lazily with a deliciously crisp fragrance, full of perfumes and smells, yet clear and fresh, with just a hint of suppressed dust tickling the nose. A day like this was to be savored whenever possible.

Kurama, however, hadn't the time to indulge in the heavenly utopia staring him right in his face; he had far more pressing matters to attend to.

"Maya-san! Watch out!" Kurama exclaimed as he frantically tried to halt his childhood friend's descent by catching her with his open arms. Thing was, once he reached out, he held nothing but a fist-full of grass in his hands. 'It was all a dream...?'

Kurama's heart pounded feverishly in his breast, his pulse racing like a demented dervish, but it eventually slowed as he willed himself to relax. He afterwards blinked and laughed at the ridiculousness of his musings.

He hadn't woken up _from_ his dream, he'd simply 'woken' into a new and completely different dream. His quest was not yet over, after all: Asuka Matsui still needed to be reborn as Shuichi Minamino. 'I just need a little more time, that's all.'

Kurama smiled wryly at the thought; 'Just how much more time do I need exactly?' he inwardly chided as he dusted the glittering remnants of the pillar of light off of himself and idly took stock of his current whereabouts. 'Maybe Yusuke's right. Maybe I do beat around the bush far too much. Perhaps I really am just wasting what's left of my time here in the Dream World, pursuing frivolous good-byes.'

The demonic fox spirit let out a cathartic breath to further calm his frayed nerves and palpitating heart. 'But, quite frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.'

Tired, confused, and with a great deal of soreness, Kurama managed to lever himself up onto his hands and knees, and then to his feet. There was a little light reflecting from the glass windows high in the east wall of a nearby building. The sun was just rising, he realized. Where exactly was he?

"Whoops!" He gulped down a wave of dizziness, reaching out to steady himself against the back of a nearby bench. Then it passed, but he still felt weak as he slowly moved forward, fighting off the feeling of nausea that kept threatening to engulf him.

The light, slowly growing, revealed things that answered most of the kitsune's questions yet gave birth to new ones. Nodding to himself, he proceeded to meticulously survey his new surroundings, taking particular note of the mushroom-infested trees, the algae-covered garden gnomes, the bench he was currently leaning on, the carefully trimmed hedges, and the manicured lawns.

From a distance, he could hear the continuous sputter of an automated sprinkler system just beyond the bushes. As he turned to follow the source of the sound, his eyes focused upon a second building just a stone's throw away from where he was standing. He walked towards the unremarkable structure and, on his way to the flight of stairs leading to its entrance, he caught sight of several doctors and nurses scurrying and bustling about its cramped hallways, minding their own business.

The nearby hospital was a small-sized building, about five stories high and only a little larger than an average mansion. It sat contentedly wedged between a school and a residential area, in one of the quieter and more peaceful parts of Tokyo.

As Kurama ventured further, he quickly realized that he was currently walking on just one of the many small parks that dotted the area; miniscule islands of greenery amongst the jungle of concrete. From this new vantage point, he got a better view of the building he had spotted earlier as it stood proudly in the distance, rising above the trees and shrubbery with a splendor that could not be denied even from such a remote proximity.

He conclusively deduced that he was in some sort of the botanical garden located in the lobby of a local city hospital; but the problem was, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing there or why Kuronue's pendant brought him there in the first place. Was this really the place he wanted to go to the most? He tried to remember the brief vision he had before he vanished from his shared dream with Maya Kitajima, but by now it had already become a distant and fading memory.

'Wait a minute!' His thin eyebrows furrowed as he looked down-beneath his feet, he found an out-of-place marble road that led directly inside the off-white health ward. The russet pathway stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the ashen concrete and vinyl tiles of the hospital's floor, yet it was by and large unnoticed by the preoccupied physicians.

'This is it; the road to another good-bye. That's where I need to go: my questions can wait,' Kurama thought firmly as he shook off the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and moved forward.

But before he could even take his first step on the marble road, Kurama was caught flatfooted by two hard, manly slaps from behind, one on each shoulder. He nearly jumped up in surprise after he turned around and discovered who was behind him.

Yusuke and Kuwabara-this time sporting their custom-made Sarayashiki Junior High School uniforms-stupidly grinned at the half-youko as they greeted in unison, "Yo, Kurama!"

"Where'd you guys come from?" Kurama gasped as he strove to steady himself after his initial shock, his eyes nearly boggling at his fellow Spirit Detectives. "I thought you'd already woken up by now! What are you two still doing here in the Dream World?"

"Hey, relax, Kurama!" Yusuke cooed as he soothingly moved his hands up and down in front of the kitsune. "If you're going to go through all this trouble to say your good-byes to your loved ones, then why can't we?"

Kurama tilted his head questioningly at the raven-haired young man. "Yusuke! That's about the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say! You must be coming down with something," he reckoned, chuckling gaily. "Seriously though, thank you; I appreciate the sentiment."

"No problem," Yusuke sheepishly stated as he scratched his chin ponderously. "To be honest, the only reason we're still here in this crazy dream is to catch up with you before you did that thing you were supposed to do with Munashii's chick, Asuka; if you can catch my drift," he managed to inform in one breath.

Kurama sweated bullets of sheer awkwardness upon hearing the half-demon's unintentional double entendre, but otherwise quickly recovered from the horrid misuse of the language. "Don't make it sound so sordid, Yusuke."

"KURAMA!" Reacting like a matador would to a bull, the redheaded demon fox involuntarily sidestepped a rather distraught Kuwabara as the taller, brawnier adolescent shouted his name and lunged for him in a disturbingly affectionate manner. The inexplicably weeping young man missed him by a mile and tumbled into a boneless heap, knocking down several garden gnomes in the process.

"Kuwabara-kun! You surprised me!" Kurama exclaimed as he went over the disoriented, curly-haired youth and proceeded to help him up. "Why are you...?"

With impressive ease, Kuwabara grabbed hold of Kurama's hand, flipped forward, landed on his feet, and clutched him in a nigh-unbreakable, bone-crushing bear hug.

"What you you're doing right now for the sake of a girl you've never even met proves that, beyond the shadow of a doubt, you're a man among men!" the robust teenager sobbed as masculine tears streamed down his face. Meanwhile, the kitsune panted and huffed for dear life, apparently forgetting that he was already, for the most part, dead.

"I'm going to miss you, you beautiful man, you!" Kuwabara openly wept while the rictus smile plastered on the redhead's face widened in furtive anguish. "I'll never forget you, Kurama! You're the manliest man I've ever known; next to me, of course."

"Aw, cut that out, you big blubbering ox!" Yusuke casually coaxed as he extricated two of his closest friends off of each other. "I do hope you realize the irony of what you said, mister weeping willow."

"There are times when real men must cry," Kuwabara sniffled, nodding sagely as Yusuke gave him an incredulous stare. "Don't give me that look; I've seen you cry lots of times. Don't even try to deny it."

Kurama, after regaining his breath and composure, couldn't help but shake his head at his companions' crazy antics in bemused amusement. Or amused bemusement, whichever the case may be.

His mood suddenly shifting, Kuwabara added grimly, "Besides, don't forget that what Kurama's planning is essentially suicide. He's about to die so that he can give Matsui Asuka another chance to live; Munashii himself told me about that."

The effect of the declaration was almost instantaneous; Kurama stared imploringly at Yusuke, but the half-demon could not even look him in the eye. Kuwabara, however, kept gazing at the both of them with an ardent, almost defiant look. "Now if you can't cry about that, then I'll cry for you, Urameshi. I'm man enough to take it."

Slightly vexed, Kurama trailed off, "Kuwabara-kun, look..."

"There's no need to explain yourself, Kurama. I know where you're coming from," declared Kuwabara as he waved off the kitsune's concerns. "This situation isn't any different from when I sacrificed myself to Toguro so that Urameshi could unleash his true power. We all need to sacrifice some things, even ourselves, for the good of the people we love, and I'm not in the position to judge you and your decision."

After a moment's pause, Yusuke spoke. "The same thing goes for me, Kurama. I didn't judge you when you thought you were becoming gay, and I won't judge you for taking your life into your own hands. Your decisions may seem controversial, but it's still your own business and none of mine."

Uncharacteristically, the mazoku descendant's lower lip trembled and teemed with unbridled grief. "But please, don't tell us not to be sad about it. That's something we just couldn't help. We've been through far too much not to care. Goddammit, Kurama, take care of yourself." He then leaned forward and tightly embraced the surprised redhead.

Kurama's mouth twitched miserably as he gently let go of his flustered comrade; he wasn't even sure if the halfhearted expression on his face could still be called a smile. "I've had a good run, and I'm glad that the both of you care so much, but I have to move on. And I can't blame either of you for feeling sad, given that even my youko self doesn't agree with my decision."

Yusuke snorted in morbid amusement. "I can imagine. Well, tell that uppity youko self of yours to stick your decision up his ass, because there ain't nothing he can do about it." The half-demon afterwards gave the half-youko a laidback salute. "Hopefully, you'll be as lucky as I was and live through this suicide of yours. Good luck on that, and say hi to Asuka-chan for me."

Kurama chortled at Yusuke's dark sense of humor. "I guess that little piece of wisdom is another one of your patented, Urameshi-style, no-beating-around-the-bush rants."

"Damn straight," Yusuke replied, then added, "Even though Kuwabara here had to beat the living hell out of me just so that I can 'accept' your little 'death scene', I'm pretty sure there are still a lot of people who'll do anything to keep you from fulfilling your promise to Matsui Asuka. You still got to watch yourself, man."

"I know," Kurama confirmed. "And I'm ready for anything they've got."

"Attaboy," Yusuke rooted with a wan smile, then darted his eyes away from the scarlet-haired ghost. "Once you put your mind into something, there ain't no stopping you. But then again, the same could be said about any of the four of us, right?"

Kurama blinked. "'Any of the four of us?' What do you...?" But by then, Yusuke and Kuwabara already had their backs turned as they made their way out of the misty garden, traveling in the opposite direction of the road to autumn. And then they were simply gone. Sighing, Kurama again opted to let his questions rest for the time being.

'After all, I do have far more urgent things to take care of,' he reckoned as he began to reassess his bearings.

Kurama's eyes narrowed as he followed the incongruous road into the looming hospital, as if he had just realized something. 'I've been here before,' he thought as he sauntered into the wide, glass-door entrance. Unaware of what was happening, his unaired queries had again sneaked past the back of his mind and were now bursting through his overloaded synapses. 'No wonder it looked so familiar. But when was I here? Why was I here? Why am I here now?'

The kitsune soon found himself standing at one end of a very long hallway with a highly polished vinyl floor marred only by the marble road. The mundane, pea-soup ceiling was inlaid with fluorescent lights lined up in a drearily symmetrical fashion. The walls on each side were boarded with off-white panels, the same color as that of the exterior of the hospice, and had countless identical doors whose only distinguishing marks were the room numbers above them; they led into various laboratories, clinics, and departments.

The artificial lighting made everything seem gloomy and bare, the simple colors making it look like a prison or mortuary. The thought left Kurama feeling rather disturbed. The hospital seemed to exude the atmosphere of a place where someone would meet their doom rather than their salvation.

The half-youko shook his head and morbidly swallowed at the idea. What he was looking for was on the fifth floor, judging from where the marble road led. He glanced to either side of him and saw a list of rooms embedded in the wall to his right. He quickly went over and examined the directory, scanning through all of the room numbers and descriptions for the building. After he found what he was looking for, he turned and resumed his ostensible death march.

He tried to ignore the drifting, overpowering smell of disinfectant in the air as he continued following the road to his next good-bye, completely lost in thought. Every few seconds, a doctor or nurse would emerge from one of the many doors from either side of him with a soft 'whoosh' while short queues of physicians lining up for the elevators could be found at the other end of the sanitized labyrinth.

There was a fountain down the hall, just before the elevators. The decorative construct seemed to epitomize the hospital's philosophy of ideal proportion and hygienic purity with its bland yet balanced jets of water going off consecutively in a monotonous rhythm. The perfectly circular pool didn't even so much as waste a trickle of water as each and every drop was accounted for by the perpetually tiresome machinations of the overgrown adornment.

Meanwhile, Kurama continued to weave through the mass of faceless humanity congregating in front of him, excusing himself profusely to not only doctors and nurses, but patients, guards, and custodians as well. Yet for some strange reason, not one of these people acknowledged his presence; they all acted as if he wasn't even there.

Nevertheless, he patiently endured the swarming throng while wending his way between hospital staff, some of whom were carrying clipboards, others wheeling in their respective patients, still others idly reading newspapers as they walked by. Like listless drones inside a bee hive.

Everything in the hospital felt so sterilized, homogenized, uniform, and unvarying that it made even the usually imperturbable Kurama feel a bit queasy. In spite of living in the Human World for nearly twenty years... in Japan, in particular... he could never get used to these forced values of communal monotony and harmonized homogeny. Groupthink, after all, was a scary thing to witness, and even scarier to be a part of.

His vague sense of nostalgia and the marble road as his only guides, Kurama persisted on treading through the crowd. He turned to his left, just past the fountain, the elevators, and the rising tide of people; there he found the stairs leading to the upper floor, and was relieved to see that they were for the most part empty. He climbed the marble-speckled staircase without a second thought. 'I'm almost there.'

Sooner rather than later, at the fifth floor to the right, the road of marble ended where Kurama was supposed to be; where he wanted to be the most. A single, coherent thought formed inside the redheaded spirit's mind as he looked at the room number above the door. It was his moment of clarity, his purest epiphany. 'Room Five-Oh-One... I remember now.'

Just beyond that door lay Shiori Minamino, and Kurama couldn't even bring himself to open it.

In real life, room five-oh-one was actually the emergency room where Kurama's-or rather, Shuichi Minamino's mother, Shiori, stayed during the time when her health was in serious jeopardy. His mother's critical condition and impending demise were what prompted the former Makai thief to steal the Mirror of Forlorn Hope from the Spirit World. And now, apparently, his mother was also dreaming the very same stressful and traumatic memory.

But in this dream, the tables had turned. This time it was he who was going to die, and he didn't quite know how to break the news to his mother. More to the point, he wasn't really quite sure if he was prepared to say his good-bye to Shiori at that instant. He had already tried to leave her in the past, when he was just ten years old, but that didn't pan out quite the way he had planned it.

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Good-bye, mother; say hello to your new child.

Writing this chapter (while a hefty chunk of my writer's block is still crushing my muse's frail, weak, and asthmatic body) is like cactus-patch diving and warm beer; the former because it's somewhat troublesome and unpleasant to bear, and the latter because being able to enjoy such unnecessary punishment is an acquired taste. But I digress. Long story short, what's done is done. Enjoy the fruits of my labor if you so choose.

Needless to say (but I'll say it anyway), it'll be another long wait before the next chapter. But you know what? I humbly believe it'll be worth it.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Paalam!  
Abdiel


	21. Chapter 20: Rebirth 3

Time passed ever so slowly, and Kurama cast himself on the wayward currents of reminiscence. That seemed natural enough; from what he understood, it was quite a common occurrence in this sort of situation.

When Kurama was nine years old, while trying to get a bottle from a high shelf, the stool he was standing on slipped, and several dishes were knocked off, breaking on the floor. Acting on motherly instinct, Shiori deftly caught and shielded the young boy's descending body with her own arms, which caused them to scar against the sharp, porcelain shards.

Kurama, overcome with a then unknown yet overwhelming emotion, slowly but surely learned to care for his human mother, and decided to stay with her as a sign of his gratitude. She had been sick for quite some time, and he had been planning to use the Ankoku Kyou Mirror to save her life; and the rest was history.

There were so many events that had helped mold Kurama into the person he was today. His days as a Makai thief with his partner, Kuronue, and his henchman, Yomi. His escape from the Reikai Hunter through nothing but blind luck and serendipitous chance. Meeting Hiei for the first time, and his unfortunate sealing of his best friend Maya's memories. Battling against the Spirit World, and then fighting alongside with Kazuma Kuwabara and Yusuke Urameshi. Becoming a Spirit Detective under the watchful eyes of Botan, Koenma, and Enma Daio.

But none of these events shaped the half-youko standing in front of room five-oh-one's door more than growing up under Shiori Minamino's care; his steady journey to the light that she helped bring to him was the very thing that defined who he was now.

But who was he really? Who was Kurama? For that matter, who was Shuichi Minamino? Wasn't Shuichi Minamino supposed to be Asuka Matsui? Wasn't his whole quest in this Dream World centered around giving that young girl the life that should have been hers in the first place? Up until that point, he still couldn't come up with satisfactory answers to these burning questions.

Unbidden, the stray, autumnal memory he had of a pitiful and pathetic Shiori imploring him to come back to her reared its ugly head inside his troubled mind.

"Shuichi... Shuichi?" his mother had said; pleaded. "Shuichi! I'm so sorry that I upset you. I don't know exactly what I've said to offend you, but I hope you'll forgive your silly mother, despite her foolishness."

Was he willing to live a lie again? Was he willing to live under the shaky foundations of pretense and deceit? Could he offhandedly embrace lying as a necessary part of human nature, the same way his youko self had in order to escape fading to inconsequence?

"Shuichi. Please..." At the time, he had found his answer in his mother's pleading eyes.

"Kaasan! I'm so sorry, kaa-"

He'd embraced his mother as she cried on his shoulder and profusely apologized to him: he had found his truth in her. He was Shuichi Minamino-or rather, he was his mother's Shuichi Minamino. As long as she saw him as that person, then that person would be his truth.

But was that still his truth now? Was it still hers? 'No. Things aren't the same anymore. This is a different scenario.' The situation had definitely changed; he was about to die-or rather, he was about to cease to exist. This might be the final time he would ever see Shiori again.

Now more than ever, he fully understood and appreciated the reason behind his unwillingness to open the door: because once he did, the consequences of his actions would be permanent and irreversible. The same could be said about his hesitation to finally give Asuka Matsui her rebirth. 'But what must be done has to be done. It's not only my will, but Asuka-san's will as well.'

He put his hand on the doorknob, his eyes darting and his unwarranted breath held for much longer than humanly possible, as if he'd forgotten how to breathe. 'I must tell kaa-Shiori-san the truth about me. The truth about Shuichi Minamino and Youko Kurama. It's the least I can do, and it's something that she deserves to know.'

His doubt his only certainty, Kurama steeled himself and opened the door leading to the bed where his dearest mother lay. 'I swear upon Kuronue's grave that I will bring back the child I've stolen from you, Minamino Shiori-san.'

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Shuichi Minamino's most heartbreaking good-bye.

Disclaimer: Yuyu Hakusho is the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. This fic therefore also belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot.

* * *

** Chapter 20: Rebirth (Part 3)**

* * *

Kurama felt a tremor of fear and coldness beneath his heart; but their unity in recklessness, an assurance of novelty at least, impelled him toward the room. He wanted to be finished with it, to emerge whole and triumphant from the test; it would be something, a knowledge of one's courage. He clambered over the bed. His chest tightened: his mouth was dry and he heard his own heart beating.

His musings lost concreteness, diffused into formless melancholy. The buzzing murmur of conversation issued from the outside ushered him to get on with what he was supposed to say.

"Kaasan," Kurama murmured to the slumbering form of Shiori Minamino as he tenderly smoothened her disheveled hair. "Kaasan, wake up. It's me, Shuichi." Through the open window, the air-steeped outdoors passed into the room, quietly enveloping Kurama, stealing into his very thoughts.

The middle-aged woman barely reacted to the crimson-haired boy's mild beckons, so he started to shake her a bit more insistently. Still, Shiori remained unresponsive. His blood ran cold; even though he was just dreaming, seeing his mother like this stirred daunting memories and terrible fears inside of him. "Kaasan, OKAASAN! Wake up! WAKE UP!"

Shiori's eyes snapped open upon hearing her prodigal son's flustered cries. "I'm awake! I'm awake... Oh, Shuichi. Sweetheart, what are you doing here? Kaasan was just resting," she more mumbled than said as she blearily rubbed her eyes with her bare knuckles. "Don't scare mommy like that, okay?"

Kurama gulped in both relief and dread: relief because his mother was all right, and dread because he still had to bid her a final farewell right then and there. But he didn't really have a choice; it was literally now or never.

His mother was one of the reasons why his eventual return to the Demon World took so long. Living with her for all these two decades-a mere day in the life of a centuries-old youko-had made him especially fond of her and the Ningenkai she represented. He had learned to love the pitfalls and the possibilities, the perils and the promise contained within the Human World as a whole, simply because that was where the woman he loved the most lived: His 'kaasan'.

'No. Wait. This human life I've taken pleasure in belongs to Matsui Asuka-san, not me. The warmth of her mother's love and a family of her own; these are the things I've heedlessly stolen from her and enjoyed for myself. I am undeserving of Shiori-san's love; it belongs to the true Shuichi and the true Shuichi alone. It's about time I returned what's rightfully hers.'

"Shuichi? Is there something wrong?" Shiori prodded her pensive child, a look of concern marring her delicate features. "I heard you whispering something about me." Kurama winced, remembering how exposed his thoughts were in the Dream World.

The bedridden woman gave the young man a reassuring squeeze of the hand. "If it's about me lying on this hospital bed, w-ell... I really have no idea what I'm doing here, truth be told," she confessed, giggling her tinkling-bell laugh at her own quandary. "But relax, Shuichi. I'm fine. At least I _think_ I'm fine. As far as I'm concerned, I'm as fit as a fiddle! There's nothing wrong with me, honey; so don't worry so much."

Kurama flinched for a second time after hearing the term of endearment. "N-No, I'm not worried about that. I'm pretty sure you're fine too, mother." Another lie: he wasn't sure of anything at all. He felt antsy; he really should get things over with and just straightforwardly say good-bye to Shiori with no elaborate explanations as to why.

Naturally, he soon realized that if he did just that, he'd be going against the very purpose of his death scene. If he really were going to resolve his problems with Shiori right here and now, then he would do so in a manner befitting of everything he had gone through, everything he had experienced, and everything he stood for. He would tie all loose ends and leave no question unanswered; because he was Kurama, the gray shade halfway between Shuichi and the youko.

Nevertheless, Kurama still felt a powerful ache inside him; a half-allaying, half-dreadful sadness that seemed to tear his resolve apart.

"I feel so strange, Shuichi. I must be really tried, because I'm imagining all sorts of crazy things!" Fortunately or unfortunately, it was Shiori who first broke the ice, beating him to the punch. "I thought I heard you think out loud, whispering things in my mind, but that's just ridiculous; the silly ramblings of an idle mind. Besides, you wouldn't know anyone by the name of Matsui Asuka, now would you?"

Kurama grit his teeth in consternation, then stated out loud, "This second-guessing of mine is pointless. I cannot hide my thoughts anymore." He forced himself a resigned smile as he held his mother by the shoulders. "Please listen, Shiori-san..."

And he proceeded to tell her everything, his fears of seeing the look of rejection and disgust on her face be damned. He told her about the shattered souls of two past lovers, Yoshitaka Tetsuma and Asuka Matsui; about the Reikai Hunter, and what he did to his youko soul; about his damaged soul's fusion with Asuka's reincarnated self, the still-born Shuichi Minamino.

And, most of all, he told her the truth about himself-his youko self, his alter ego who attacked Shiori all those months ago just to anger his human self up. He told her the good, the bad, and the ugly sides of himself. No more secrets. No more lies. No more half-truths.

"I don't believe it," Shiori murmured doubtfully, in the same manner that she'd expressed his own incredulity in Kurama's worst-case scenario of the situation. "You were...?" She couldn't even finish her sentence, for fear that she might offend Shuichi.

'But I'm not Shuichi; I'm just a monster,' he pondered bitterly. "Yes, I'm the monster that assaulted you, mother." Like in his most dreadful nightmares, Kurama decided to show Shiori a far more tangible proof to his claims.

With a single, lucid thought, he metamorphosed into his past self's youkai form. He inundated himself with energy: a cool light, a stream of cold fire that poured through him, a flood of sensation that spun about him. He felt his whole body shifting and changing; then, more subtly, his clothes. And when it was done...

Sharp, golden eyes stared back at Shiori's brown ones, framed by pointed, silvery bangs that glinted in the fluorescent light.

The middle-aged woman stifled a gasp, half-frightened and half-confused by the recent turn of events. She was now looking straight into the eyes of her attacker from many months' past; it was her own son, or at least the young man whom she thought was her son.

His eyes downtrodden, Kurama commented, "I'm not yet through. There's still much to talk about, Shiori-san."

Severely overcome by his mother's daunting reaction yet still ever-resilient, Kurama poured his heart and soul out to her as he revealed the rest of his life's story. Maya and Hiei. Yusuke and Kuwabara. Botan, Koenma, and the Spirit World. The Ankoku Kyou. The Shisejyu. The Ankoku Bujutsukai. The Black Chapter. The Three Kingdoms of the Demon World. Shiori listened to his extensive tale in rapt, undivided attention, hanging onto his every word.

A subdued silence fell once Kurama finished; the world seemed to hold its breath as he waited for his beloved mother's reply. For the longest time, Shiori stared blankly, expressionlessly, at the wretched silver-haired creature before her.

'She hates me. Just like in my nightmares, she hates me, and she doesn't want to have anything to do with me.' Kurama looked down on the marble floor as his shoulders slumped in defeat. 'It's just as well. It's for the best, isn't it? I mean, she'll soon be getting the real Minamino Shuichi back; the daughter she never had.' He averted his adoptive mother's unreadable, almost quizzical gaze and went for the door.

"Wait!" Shiori reached out for the silver-haired demon fox with a delicate, outstretched hand, the scars on her arm readily apparent. The kitsune recoiled from the touch, backing away from the woman slightly, his throat parched and dry.

"Please, don't touch me," he heard himself rasp, though what he really meant to say was, "Please, don't hate me." His fists were clenched, his sharp claws digging into the palms of his hands.

But Shiori didn't seem to hear as she took hold of, to Kurama's shock and surprise, one of his silvery-sleek tails and gleefully chortled to her heart's content, like a schoolgirl would to a particularly adorable object or person.

"It's so smooth! Like silk!" she marveled in awe. "No, no... Silk isn't even enough to describe its smoothness. They're even softer than a pillow! I could fall sleep on these things, no kidding."

Shuichi's mother began counting Kurama's tails, mumbling the numbers to herself. "Seven, huh? That's a very lucky number. So does that mean you're, what? Seven hundred years old? At least that's what the book on Kitsune Legends told me about tails and a kitsune's age."

She smirked, shook her head, and wagged a finger at her so-called son. "To think, you've been calling me 'kaasan' all this time; you naughty boy, you're even older than I am!" she mildly admonished, then giggled some more.

"This is no laughing matter!" Kurama blurted out, embarrassed yet somehow relieved at his adoptive mother's antics. "By Inari, don't you realize that I'm a dangerous demon? A youkai who-"

"'By Inari'? Oh yes, that's the Kami that kitsune worship, right? Amazing, you really are a mythological creature! Or maybe not so much 'mythological', since you actually exist," Shiori speculated in delight, more to herself than to the Silver Fox, as she reached forward and patted his hand. "I can't believe a fox spirit has been living with me right under my nose, and I didn't even realize it! This is so exciting!"

"This is _definitely_ not exciting," Kurama insisted in exasperation as he wiped his tapered, handsome features with a slender, clawed hand. "You don't understand the gravity of the situation, do you? For Inari's sake, I'm the youkai who attacked and nearly killed you just two months ago! I'm... I'm the one who stole your baby and pretended to be her for the sake of my own survival. I'm... just a thief and a murderer...!"

He cut himself off and turned away from Shiori, uncertain and afraid of her reaction to his emotional outburst. 'But it's all true anyway.'

It was a childish line of reasoning; he knew that even as he said it. But Shiori replied patiently, "No, that is not true," as she tenderly put her head on the youko's white-vested, alabaster-smooth chest and listened to the steady beats of his fluttering heart. "The demon who hurt me and... the 'demon' I'm with right now are not the same person. Not at all. You're whoever you want to become, and you're whoever I make you out to be. For better or for worse, you will always be my son."

She reached out and took Kurama by the shoulders, shaking him gently. "Did you really think that I'd hate you for being yourself? Oh, you idiot-" She drew him in, hugging him, holding him. "You silly idiot," she murmured again.

'Oh, kaasan,' Kurama mused, despite the pointlessness of hiding his thoughts. After such a long time living with Shiori, he had never, in his wildest dreams, imagined that confessing the truth to her to be this easy. Nonetheless, he still had one more thing to accomplish, and it was a much more difficult task to perform than the last. "I'm so happy that you feel that way."

"I'm so happy that we're now being honest with each other. I feel as though the air between us has been cleared," Shiori cheered as she affectionately gave her son a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart; I really appreciate the gesture."

"And I for one am glad that I've met you, knowing that you've filled in so many gaps in my life," Kurama divulged truthfully, injecting Shiori with her verbal Novocain and bracing himself for what was to come.

"It was my pleasure... Kurama," the elder Minamino said the strange name tentatively, lolling its syllables in her tongue as if she were savoring its taste in her mouth. "That's your name, right? I hope I'm pronouncing it correctly."

"Yes. That's my name." Kurama smiled amiably at his mother's somewhat charming naïveté. However, he felt rather sorry for her, for she had absolutely no idea what was coming. "Anyway, in thanks for what you've done for me, I will now make things right between you and your estranged child. I'll do everything in my power to return to you the daughter you never had; I'll give it my all, Shiori-san."

Shiori stiffened, sitting stock-still on her bed. "T-That's nice, but what exactly do you mean by giving it your all?" she suspiciously inquired as an intuitive feeling of dread crawled up her spine-she didn't like where the conversation was going. "And isn't this 'Asuka' girl already dead? You said so yourself."

Feeling hopelessly old and tired, Kurama's youko guise faltered right on the spot, his sad, amber eyes turning into sad, green eyes. "No. You misunderstood my story. A shadow of Matsui Asuka's soul continues to exist in the same way Tetsuma's does, and it lives in your only child's body the same way my youko soul does. I cannot explain how, but her shattered sense of self has slowly permeated into mine. Her kindness, her selflessness, her compassion-everything about her personality, I've slowly emulated, creating this whole other persona known as Minamino Shuichi."

"_What're you trying to say?_" Shiori emphatically asserted, her shrill voice rising in pitch. Deep down, she already had an inkling of what her surrogate son was talking about, but for some strange reason, she felt morbidly compelled to hear the dire news straight from his own lips.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that, well, it's about time I said my good-byes to you, Shiori-san. And my farewell gift to you is to bring back your long-lost daughter, Asuka: Her life in exchange for mine." Kurama's voice was strained with false optimism; for an announcement he deemed as good news, he told it in such a defeated tone. "I guess that's fair enough; an eye for an eye, a life for a life."

Silence passed the pair at a leisurely pace. Shiori bit her lip as she sensed her son slowly slip away from her grasp the same way he did so many months ago, when he realized that his alter ego had attacked her. She could not let that happen again; she wouldn't, not for a second.

"W-Why do you need to sacrifice your life just to get me back this Matsui Asuka girl? Why go through all that trouble? I don't understand it: 'A life for a life?' That doesn't even make any sense!" Suddenly petrified, Shiori babbled nigh-incoherently, speaking as fast as she could, saying whatever came into her mind, trying to find something, anything, that would make this hurt go away.

"I don't want you to give your life away because of some 'daughter' I've never even met! It's not fair-you're the one, the only son I've ever... Please, don't do this! I can't lose you again, I just...!"

She tried to force calmness into her voice, to still her wildly racing thoughts. Her hands were trembling hard. "Please," she begged, "stop this. _ You're_ my son! You're my only, begotten son! I gave birth to _you_-"

"Sayonara, Minamino Shiori-san," Kurama cut her off abruptly-and hated himself for doing so. "Thank you for all your kindness, especially since I never deserved any of it. I will try to repay all the good that you've done to me by bringing back the child that I've stolen from you."

At long last, Kurama's dreaded good-bye was finally done and over with. Nonetheless, whether or not he was aware of the fact, it was very much a given that his stand-in parent of sixteen years would not let go of him that easily. And so, after much hesitation and inner deliberation, Shiori finally spoke in response to his farewell, declaring, "I love you."

Kurama was completely taken aback by what his mother just said, utterly flabbergasted by her statement. The words in and of themselves weren't unusual for her to say, and it was something he had heard her tell him from time to time, something which he should be used to hearing by now; yet at that moment, by the way he reacted to the heartfelt words, it seemed like this was the very first time he'd ever heard them.

Her voice slightly cracking, Shiori asserted, "I love you more each day; more than yesterday, less than tomorrow. I love you more than life itself, and more than you and I could ever comprehend. It's not because of anything you've done or can do for me. It's not because you were at the right place at the right time. I don't particularly care why I love you, because that doesn't matter; that's not the point. I love you without rhyme or reason, whether you're a human, a kitsune, a demon, or an angel. You're my son, and I love you so very much, and that's all there is to it."

"You're playing dirty, Shiori-san," Kurama bemoaned as he wrung his cold and clammy hands miserably. "What you're doing isn't fair at all."

"Love isn't fair. It just is." His walls were down, Shiori realized; just for a moment, Kurama was wide open. But something told her that she had to be careful. One careless remark was all it took to slam those walls back up; maybe for good. She didn't want that.

Fidgeting for about a quarter of a second before altogether letting out a chirruping combination of a laugh and a cry, Shiori reminisced, "Don't you remember the time when I saved you from falling down on a pile of broken plates? I still have the scars to prove that." She lifted up her arms to demonstrate her point.

"Or how about the numerous times you'd climb up the cherry tree in our front lawn? I'd always come and fetch you down from there as if you were some sort of cat stuck on a tree!" She sniggered at that particular memory.

"Or the time when we talked about the stars in the sky, and how most of them are just remnants of their former selves?" Her closed eyes shone with unshed tears. "You then mentioned something about wanting to die like a star, if I remember correct-"

"Stop this, Shiori-san. Enough is enough." There was a world of torment in Kurama's restrained tone. "Why bring up these memories _now_ of all times? They only serve to make you look desperate and pathetic, and I don't want to see you like that. I understand what you're trying to do, and quite frankly I don't need the guilt trip. You're only making this hard on yourself; please stop talking about the past, because..." he took a deep, belabored breath, "because it won't change a thing."

"What _you're_ trying to do, on the other hand, will change everything in our lives as we now it! Why can't you just let things be? There's nothing wrong with what we have right now. If something's not broken, then don't try to fix it!" Shiori all but screamed at Kurama.

Maybe he _was_ saying good-bye, and perhaps nothing she said or did would make him change his mind, but she didn't want to think about that right now. What mattered to her was that she believed him to be her only son, and she wouldn't let go of him so readily; her pride was extinguished, her inner soul exposed for him to see.

Her hands clasped his, her touch gentle and unassuming; it insinuated itself into his grip and nestled there comfortably as hot, wet tears streamed across her cheeks. "Point is, I did all those things for _you_, Shuichi... or Kurama, if that's what you're really called. I didn't experience those memories with this so-called daughter of mine, I experienced them with you; they're our memories, and it was _you_ all along that I loved the most."

"I knew you'd say that, and I appreciate the sentiment." Kurama shifted uncomfortably on his feet; hearing his mother unintentionally paraphrase what he had confessed to Yoshitaka Tetsuma about Asuka Matsui somewhat unnerved him.

"I get it, Shiori-san. I know how much Shuichi Minamino means to you; she means quite a lot to me too. Still, like I've said, it won't change a thing. My existence, like Taka-kun's, is an anomaly. Our life, for lack of a better term, is a charade. All I'm doing is setting things right. Don't you understand? Can't you let me do this one favor for you?"

"Why should I?" Shiori retorted, almost hissed. Her patience was finally spent, her brown eyes burning red with the searing pain and righteous indignation of a woman scorned. "Ever since you got here, you've been forcing on me this idea of you acting as the ultimate 'martyr' and 'hero' by sacrificing yourself for the sake of some stranger you claim to be my child. What makes you think I'll stand for any of it? How dare you try to take away something so important to me and replace it with something I don't even want! Even if our life as mother and son was all a lie, I'd rather have the lie than the truth."

Kurama flinched, and Shiori was baffled by his reaction. Didn't he _want_ to have her as his mother? Why was he so affected by this 'Asuka' person? Why was he so adamant about killing himself over this girl?

"Everything I've done, I did for your own good. What I'm doing right now is also for your own good, whether or not you consider it as such," Kurama whispered delicately as his eyes shied away from his surrogate mother, barely hiding the look of betrayal contained within them. To Shiori, his words stung her like a buzzing reproach.

She searched for the words to explain to him her side of the story; she tried to restrain herself, to pacify her panic-driven hysteria. Alas, her good intentions were for naught-her explanations came out more like accusations and demands.

"Can't you just let things be?" she reiterated. "Why must you do this? Why are you in such a hurry to die? Why do you think that what's best for me is to lose you? Isn't it enough that we love each other and nothing bad will ever happen to us if we continue this supposed 'charade' of ours? For Kami-sama's sake, please make me understand!"

Speaking mostly in regards to the brimming concoction of conflicting emotions dancing behind his parent's candid eyes, Kurama acknowledged Shiori's apprehensions. "Love doesn't always make the world go round; it's problems, and the people who solve their problems, that keep it turning. Asuka Matsui is _my_ problem; my unfinished business. She's the only reason why I'm still here, and she will also be the reason for my demise. The Natural Order deems it so."

"You haven't answered my question! Damn the Natural Order!" Kurama had never seen his foster parent so angry; her rage made him back away warily from her, unsure of how to react. Shiori, on her part, was beside herself with fury. She swallowed the stinging in her throat, choked up by pure, raw emotion. "Asuka this, Asuka that... Asuka, Asuka, Asuka! I certainly didn't ask you to save Matsui Asuka's life! Why? Why do you need to do this? Why do you think it's necessary for you to save her?"

There was a loaded pause. As Kurama just stood there, immobilized by his own uncertainty, Shiori finally figured out the reason why he hadn't answered any of her most pertinent questions: He didn't because he couldn't. He had no satisfactory reply to present to her, and it gnawed at him to his very bones. This farewell of his, foolish as it was, was as upsetting to him as it was to her. No matter who this strange, intelligent child was, she knew from long experience that he couldn't bear to see her in any kind of distress.

Shiori could almost feel Kurama's desire to reach out and comfort her, and as the prospect of losing him tore at her in wrenching and muffled sobs, she found herself wanting to turn and pull her child into her arms and cry on his shoulder. But...

No. He drew back and put up his walls again, opting instead to calmly continue his discourse. "I think that every one of us, whether human, demon, or otherwise, has a saturation point; a level that can't go any deeper into our souls. In other words, we are pushed to the brink, and we either strip ourselves of whatever is eating away at our souls or be doomed to self-destruct. I've finally reached that point, and I believe it's about time that I tied the loose end that is my life before it's cut forever."

Kurama suddenly felt bad for rejecting Shiori's advances after reaching out for her-for stopping himself and for not wanting to accept her comfort. But it was far too late for him to have any sort of regret or reservation. Like with Yumiko's confession of love, it was now time for him to act cruel to be kind. "Unfortunately, in order for me to do so, we have to let go of each other. It's time for me to leave. Enough is enough."

"But how can you be so sure of this? Do you honestly believe that killing yourself over this girl will make me happy? You must be out of your mind to even think that!" She wanted to say more, to further elaborate what was going on in her mind, but she quickly realized that she would only be repeating the things she'd already said before.

"I'm sorry," Kurama apologized sincerely, adding, "It's just that, you simply have no choice in the matter."

Then there were ten seconds of silence that both of them felt forever.

Shiori was the first one to shatter the lingering stillness. "What sort of spell has that witch cast upon you to make you so... so... obsessed with her?" the middle-aged mother exploded as she felt her perfect little world collapse around her, like a crystal shattered from within by a note of pure, excruciating resonance; an inner screech of anguish. "I don't want her! I don't want this Matsui Asuka person as a daughter! It's you whom I want! It's always been you, Kurama! You're my son! You're my Shuichi! Please, don't leave me!"

"DON'T SAY THAT!" Kurama snapped. He couldn't help himself; it was now his turn to lash his tongue out in lividness. "Don't ever say that again about Asuka! She's gone through far too much for you to reject her that way. She deserves better. She deserves this second lease in life, to know who her mother is. She deserves to be loved, not hated. And she alone deserves to be the one true Minamino Shuichi."

"But you're my Shuichi," her voice faltered in between her whimpers.

Kurama locked eyes with Shiori for one last moment before he turned. His throat tightened as the image of her longing eyes and trembling lips burned itself inside his retinas. "No, I'm not. Not anymore. I'm sorry."

A flame burned from Shiori's chest, and she cried out in pain as if she were being torn asunder. "I'll miss you, Minamino Shiori-san," Kurama nuanced amidst the sounds of heart-wrenching agony; it was as close as he could ever get to saying what he really wanted to say.

He shut his eyes as he left. 'It's too bad that I have yet one last dream to break; a dream that, hopefully, would result in the happy ending of another. At least, that's the intention.'

* * *

His head hung low, Kurama mutely followed the marble road inside his mother's room reflexively, robotically; he felt numbed and exhausted from the inside out, as if he had just inadvertently committed the most reprehensible and heinous act of all time, a crime against the soul itself. 'Such silly thoughts: it was all for the best. They'll see. I've set upon making things right, and that's what I intend to do.' Or so he hoped. He wasn't merely trying to convince himself, of course.

He opened the door on his way out of the Intensive Care Unit, and was surprised to see there was no hospital behind it. Instead, he bore witness to darkness of the purest black as some unseen force pulled him into its ominous maws. Afterwards, everything became a blur.

Down and down he rushed-though he was not quite sure anymore which way was up with the damned shadows obscuring his sight-first through darkness, and then through a mass of vague and whirling shapes that might have been almost anything. It grew lighter. Then suddenly, Kurama felt that he was standing on something solid. A moment later, everything came into focus and he was able to look about him.

At first, Kurama knew nothing but darkness. All of his body felt numb; frozen. He could remember nothing of what had happened, aside from a sensation of dread that blanketed his mind.

A light, almost imperceptible drizzle descended to cleanse him of his confusion. For one instant, he felt the overwhelming chill wash upon him-he knew, at that moment, that he was alone. No one would be near to hear his cries if anything went wrong. No one would assist him with the slightest encouragement, or even a whispered cheer. And for that brief eternity, he felt truly forlorn.

Kurama dejectedly traversed the shallow banks of hopelessness and regret, literally crossing the fringes of the Spirit World and the Demon World before finally docking upon the sakura-filled porcelain garden; the starting point of his whole adventure. His escapades had finally come full circle and run its course.

He had no more bittersweet good-byes to share, and when everything was said and done, he felt rather empty by the end of his long and involved odyssey. The journey of a thousand miles, the journey that began with a single step, had at last drawn to its conclusion. All the same, his determination was still crackling like wildfire in anticipation of what was to come.

But his lonesome and doubt were swept away by his determination as quickly as they had come. Even if he were alone, all for the better: no one would try to stop him, to keep him from his goal... and, if he succeeded, this solitude would soon fade into meaningless nothingness.

Strangely elated by this knowledge, he armed herself with all the courage he could muster and stepped forward. Every step he took, his feet oblivious of the brown limestone beneath them, added to his confidence. How he wished to meet Asuka Matsui once again, to tell her that everything would be all right now, and that she shouldn't have any doubts about anything anymore. 'Soon, Asuka-san. Very soon.'

He spared a final glance around the vicinity to make sure nobody was near. The squall had ceased and the nimbus clouds soon parted; then, a nighttime sky filled with bejeweled stars came quietly to the new world, creeping softly through the shadows and spreading itself across the rocky plains with the careful, measured flow of a well-timed assault. The heavens above progressively lightened up their ebony tint to svelte purple.

"So I'm back to where I've started, huh?" Kurama considered, then furrowed his eyebrows pensively as something else occurred to him. "I've said good-bye to all the people who'll miss me the most, but something feels off," he noted, the thought leaving him rather disconcerted.

As if on cue, the dark, nimbus firmament above Kurama transformed into undeniable brilliance as soon as he stepped into the grassy knolls of the Eden-like garden, a vast expanse of stars glittering with impossible nearness. Immediately before him, an alabaster bridge appeared, stretched over a small stream that cut a trail through carefully trimmed meadow before merging into a vast, still pond that mirrored the constellation-filled sky in all its simulated magnificence.

As Kurama crossed the bridge, he looked over the still-water pond below him, fragrant red petals floating on its silver surface like a satin bed open to the sky and wet with dew. The air gradually became humid and heavy with the scent of roses that lined the banks of the stream, and a gentle breeze whispered through the rustling thorn bushes that relaxed near the edges of the pond, the pointed tips of their low-hanging vines stretching out over the watery reflections.

Above him, an aurora borealis seemed to move and ripple like a bright, multicolored river that flowed across the sky, bathing the land in neon brilliance.

The vast, perfect circle, of which the garden stood at the center, was now bereft of anything illuminating it save for the rainbow sky. 'It's just like before, when I first got here. I can see everything despite the absence of a heavenly body. The fact barely affects the beauty and spirit of his beautiful place, but even a first-time visitor can still feel that something was missing. How... interesting. Disturbing, but interesting.'

The redhead was still hobbling on his feet thanks to his depressed state and sorrowful farewells, but for the most part, his emotional wounds didn't matter much to him; he was about to die anyway, so any major grievances he'd suffered beforehand were trivial in comparison.

'At last, I can finally rest in piece here,' Kurama thought as he gently touched Kuronue's ruby pendant while discarding his school jacket with a shrug of his shoulders. The piece of jewelry shone brightly-even more so than before-as though it had been fashioned out of sunbeams and starlight.

Kurama knew the trinket to have been Kuronue's most prized possession-and his as well, for these past few voyages. But it would not evoke music from the past anymore; he had a feeling it would instead help him bring forth a new dawn. 'I can't think of a better way to die, settling my debts to society whilst giving back this wonderful life to its rightful owner. I just couldn't ask for more.'

Of course, a thought and reality could be worlds apart. Little did Kurama know that he had a few more debts to pay before he could get what he wanted and fulfill his will. Of course, this little unsaid quirk of destiny sort of explained why Botan was patiently waiting for him on the other side of the alabaster bridge.

"B-Botan! What a surprise! What are you doing here?" Kurama greeted, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the thought of the ferry-girl witnessing his eventual suicide.

On the other hand, it did seem quite apt that the embodiment of death-in Botan's case, a cute ferry-girl clan in a pink kimono and a boat paddle-would attend Kurama's impending funeral, except that he had no intention of giving up his soul to the Spirit World; it belonged to no one else except Asuka Matsui alone, and that was that.

In any case, Botan wasn't paying attention to Kurama's attempts at conversation, the strange shadows from her sky-blue bangs somehow obscuring the upper half of her face, making her look rather expressionless.

"Are you here to pay your final respects for the soon-to-be departed, Miss Shinigami?" Kurama wryly tried to tease, but humor was not among his strong suits. Dry wit perhaps, but he was no comedian. As such, hearing no response, the kitsune tried another approach.

"Cheer up, Botan. This isn't like you. Come on, what's with that long face of yours? Don't tell me that you're feeling a bit low because of my planned suicide and whatnot. That'd be a silly sentiment, coming from a happy-go-lucky shinigami like you. Besides which, haven't we gone through enough trials and tribulations to at least be close enough to call each other friends? Or, at the very worst, acquaintances? Come on, give your friend a smile!"

"What in Enma Daio's name are you talking about, Kurama?" Just as planned, that loaded remark caught Botan's attention, igniting a determined, almost argumentative flame in her pinkish-red eyes. It must have been the fact that there were so many things wrong with Kurama's statement that she didn't know where to start.

"We're not friends. We're barely even acquaintances. You don't know me, and I don't know you. We barely even talked to each other for more than ten minutes... maybe half an hour, tops. Sure, we've rooted for each other during times of great need or whatever, but that'd be the end of that. Face it, we're not exactly close."

Okay. Well, that came from left field. Kurama's bait-filled pledge had all sorts of obvious openings for Botan to pick at, and she decided to break the ice with _that_ particular topic. Huh. The redhead never even realized that the shinigami had issues regarding their supposed lack of amity.

As such, he shrugged his surprise off and decided to humor the girl, responding, "Well, I did help you way back during the time when Keiko was almost turned into a demon care of that sword Hiei, Gouki, and I stole."

"But what does that prove? If it were some other ferry-girl you had to help clean up a mess that you and your demonic friends started in the first place, then you probably would've done the same thing anyway! I was just at the right place at the right time, nothing more," Botan disputed with flushed cheeks and a petulant pout, much to Kurama's growing bewilderment.

The nonplussed half-youko chortled apprehensively, unsure of where their bizarre conversation was going. "Okay, how about that time during Hiei's fight with Zeru in the Ankoku Bujutsukai, where I went directly in front of you to prevent you from becoming part of the Jaou-Ensatsu-Kokuryuha's collateral damage? I mean, either Genkai or Kuwabara-kun could have done it, but... didn't. So I did. Sort of. Anyway, at least it's the thought that counts, right?"

Though Botan's face went one shade pinker than before, she _almost_ did not miss a beat in rationalizing, "I-I was the one nearest you at the time, Kurama. So it's kind of hard to consider any sort of good deed on your part because you're such a saint; I was simply the nearest bystander for you to save, what with your Messiah Complex and all."

This was getting ridiculous. "Oh, come on now! Don't you remember the time when I helped you bring the half-conscious Kuwabara-kun into the waiting room after Yusuke defeated the Ichigaki Team?"

"So? Hiei's an asshole, Koenma-sama and Jorge are useless, Keiko-chan and the others were mere spectators at the time, and Yusuke and Genkai-shihan were completely spent after fighting Ichigaki and his minions; so that naturally leaves _you_ to help me take care of Kuwabara. Sorry, my knight in shining armor, but no dice."

To Botan's astonishment, Kurama looked genuinely disheartened once it dawned to him that, yes, she was right; the two of them really weren't that close to each other _at all_; much less compatible, whatever that meant. "That's... so disappointing to hear, Botan. All this time, I thought you were my friend. So you never, even once, thought that I gave a damn about you? Or perhaps it's you who never gave a damn about me instead?"

It was now Botan's turn to clumsily laugh at this latest, awkward development. "Er, not exactly; I wouldn't quite say that, Kurama. Um, during your fight with Karasu, I was... well, quite worried about you."

"Ah, but using your own line of argument against me earlier, you'd be worried about Yusuke, Genkai, Kuwabara, or even Hiei too, if they were faced with the same deranged, sadistic stalker demon who had a tendency to torture and blow up the people he liked," Kurama pointed out, much to Botan's vexation.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, the ferry-girl conceded, "Fine, fine. I know what I said, okay? But for what it's worth, I was the only one among the four of us girls watching who got excited when you transformed into Youko Kurama and proceeded to kick Karasu's scrawny bishonen butt from here to Thursday."

Kurama casually shrugged and raised a doubtful eyebrow. "So does that mean you felt a much closer connection with Youko Kurama than with me, then?"

"It's not like that! I-" Ignoring the mounting tension she felt because of the dubious implications of what she was about to say, the shinigami reluctantly grumbled, "It's not like that at all. When you reverted to your human form and was beaten up by Karasu, everyone was worried. But I was the only one among the girls who believed that you'd make it in the end. Despite us not being close together, I at least had enough faith in you to root for you, just like I said earlier. Does that make us close? Hell no. But that doesn't mean I didn't want us to be close... Oh, Enma Daio."

Botan looked away and leaned over the alabaster railings, her downtrodden eyes staring right into her own sad reflection on the still waters below. Kurama himself followed suit, moving right beside the ferry-girl by leaning against the bridge's barrier whilst facing the other direction.

"You weren't the only one who wished we we're closer than we were, Botan. Remember the time when I kept you from saying the forbidden word 'hot' inside Kaito-kun's soul-stealing 'territory'? I didn't do that for the sake of my supposed Messiah Complex-I did it because I couldn't forgive myself if I saw you hurt. My mother taught me better than that."

Botan didn't know what to make of Kurama's little confession just then, which prompted her to stare even more intently into the shallow abyss of the marble and porcelain garden's tranquil pond.

"So can you care to tell me why you're so fascinated about our closeness with each other, Botan?" Kurama asked in kind, feeling as though the aforesaid chasm between the two of them had finally begun to shrink.

In barely a whisper, Botan professed, "I wanted to sort out my feelings. I wanted to make sure that you were worth... saving. I wanted to make sure that I wanted you to be saved."

"Excuse me?" Kurama blinked in confusion. "Save me? Save me from what?" Just then, a blast of pure spiritual energy started to gather around them. The kitsune turned. The breeze he felt earlier had now grown into a veritable storm, and the weird feeling that had been plaguing him since he'd come back from the bidding farewell to his dear mother suddenly peaked, and he felt his heart pound.

There was a moment of complete silence, and then the unseen mass of energy shattered into hundreds of glowing pieces flying on all different directions. The maelstrom manifested itself into multicolored chaos, streaking directly towards Kurama like miniature missiles locked onto him; a suffocating swarm of undulating projectiles that swirled around his body with unnatural energy. "Botan, what's going on?" the redhead warily prodded, then felt himself freeze into place as the ferry-girl suddenly... wept? Huh? "Botan...?"

"I'm so sorry, Kurama. I'm really sorry, but Koenma-sama ordered me to do this, and... and... I wanted to do this too," she woefully rationalized as she held back her sniffling sobs at the back of her throat, "because you among all the souls I've ever reaped deserves to be saved the most."

"Do what? What have you done to me? And what does Koenma have to do with anything?" Kurama asked with growing concern, but he could still not move a muscle. "I don't understand where you're coming from, Botan. Please don't cry. What did you do wrong in the first place?"

She choked back her tears, wiped her face, and afterwards heaved a long, dejected sigh. "I gave you the Kiss of Death, Kurama. I've now become your Doom Bitch," she confessed with the seriousness of a doctor who'd just diagnosed her patient with a terminal disease.

Incredulous, Kurama burst into a short bout of laughter that he held back more out of politeness than actual guilt. "'Kiss of Death'? You mean that little kiss we shared back in Maya's golden pillar? You shouldn't beat yourself up because that, Botan! I mean, it was okay to kiss you at the time, right? And it was you who kissed me first, just so we're clear. I mean, that's the way I remembered it. I hope I'm not misremembering anything, and if I am, I deeply apologize."

"You most certainly have nothing to be sorry about, Kurama! I should be the one apologizing," Botan trailed off as she shyly looked away, not at all acting like her usual self. Something was afoot.

"I don't quite understand what you're trying to say, Botan. What is the Kiss of Death? Why are you so sorry?"

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: The Kiss of Death.

Send all C&C, flames, death threats, and so on to me at either my Yahoo address (which this site won't show) or my Gmail address (ditto); whichever suits your fancy. Scratch that, just find my email address on my Author Page or Google Search it and go from there.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Salamat sa pagbabasa!  
Abdiel


	22. Chapter 21: Revolution 1

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Flashbacks galore this time around. Why? Ballooning chapters and the poor readers who could barely keep up with the sheer amount of plot points. Now run along kiddies; nothing to see here.

Disclaimer: Yuyu Hakusho is the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. This fic therefore also belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot.

* * *

** Chapter 21: Revolution (Part 1)**

* * *

Botan couldn't take it anymore; she felt that it was finally time for her to come clean. "I tricked you earlier, Kurama. I gave you that kiss under false pretenses. It was all just a ploy to capture you. The Kiss of Death is one of many potent methods for us shinigami to finally 'anchor down' and take control of wayward, earthbound ghosts like yourself. For a soul that should have died two decades ago, you have far too much self-awareness and freewill your own good. The only real choice for souls of the dead is to forget their past life and move on. Please understand."

"But why?" The look of betrayal was etched all over Kurama's face; Botan couldn't even stare into his jaded eyes at that point. This is the closest that his 'death scene detractors' had ever gotten to actually stopping him from fulfilling his will, and he knew it.

"I had to do this, Kurama! It was under the order of the Spirit World, and I have an obligation to-" she parroted just like before, but in the end, even she couldn't take her own hypocrisy. "No. That's bullshit. I didn't do this just because Koenma-sama ordered me to do so. Your intentions are noble, as usual, but like what Yusuke did during the time you wished that suicidal wish with the Mirror of Forlorn Hope, I too will do everything in my power to save you from your own well-intentioned folly. You leave me no other choice."

"So this is your Kiss of Death. I see. Interesting," Kurama listlessly concluded, seemingly ignoring Botan's explanation before succumbing to the inescapable power that the Spirit World had over all the dead, the gyrating mass of dense aura slamming unto his weakening astral body with tremendous force. It shifted in shape, stretching and widening like an amoeba. Then, without warning, it moved to completely engulf the redhead's entire form.

To Kurama's surprise, the whole experience wasn't painful at all. Quite the opposite really, for he suddenly felt numb all over. Botan, on the other hand, was writhing as if in pain, and he could see some of the variegated glow seeping into her skin. "Botan!" he screamed, and was surprised when no sound came out of him mouth. The numbness was creeping deeper into his body. He looked down at his outstretched hand and saw that it was becoming transparent. He afterwards heard somebody other than the shinigami calling his name through the roar of the reiki cyclone.

"At last, we have you now, Youko Kurama," an teenage-looking Koenma announced as he casually strolled into the turbulent scene with a gait reminiscent of Lord Enma himself. "By the power vested in me by the Spirit World, I hereby put you under arrest for Crimes against the Natural Order."

* * *

In the dark rift in between two worlds that resided within the plain of surrealism-the Spirit World and the Dream World-velvety eyes opened to a new awareness and a new reality spawned by the end of Kurama's long good-byes.

Indeed, he who brought life took away life; that was the main belief of the various religions; a belief that tried to constitute a kind of purpose to life and death-blaming everything as the whims of some great creator; the ultimate puppet master. But perhaps this recently awakened one was acting more of the puppet to the half-youko's puppet show.

It was now time to shatter through all this riffraff and accomplish his latest mission-the reason why he escaped oblivion and identity loss in the first place.

How long had he been dead? It didn't matter. For all intents and purposes, he was alive now. As such, his heart palpitated to new life as he raced out of the darkness of his comatose state and into the shocking awakening of a new reality; and a new purpose. He then gripped his chained weapon and unfurled his midnight wings in anticipation.

Kurama's will shall be done.

* * *

"It took you a little longer than I expected, but you've done well all-in-all on apprehending Kurama, Botan. By waiting things out while he slowly made a noose to hang himself with as he made those long and involved farewells to his loved ones, you've prevented him from committing a heinous and deplorable act of resurrecting a long dead spirit without prior approval from the Spirit World," Koenma surmised detachedly, his words sounding more like a message dispatch than actual praise. "All right, read him his charges."

Holding back the raw emotion and building pain inside her chest the best she could, Botan dictated, "By the order of Lord Koenma, I'm placing you under arrest for conspiring against the Spirit World and attempting to tamper with the Book of Fate's iron-clad decrees. From here on end, your spirit shall be transformed into a hitodama flame... or, in your case, fox fire... and be ferried along the River Styx while you await further trial and sentencing." The ferry-girl afterwards collapsed to her knees, shivering intensely as she practically bathed in her own cold sweat.

"Stop this, Botan! This soul-stealing technique of yours is hurting you more than it does me! Please, be reasonable!" Kurama pleaded, then angrily turned towards Koenma and rebuked, "Why are you doing this? Don't you care about what happens to your shinigami? This isn't like you at all!"

"Do you know who's really hurting Botan, Kurama? It's you," Koenma reproached in kind as he took out his pacifier and started to focus the remnants of his own spiritual energy into it. "This whole debacle has been caused by you and your needless drama, actually. It's your innate stubbornness that's making it hard for Botan to completely transform your soul into a more manageable will o' the wisp form. If you can just let go of your suicidal obsession to commit crimes against nature for just one minute, then everything should be fine. Leave everything to the Spirit World's jurisdiction and let things be, Kurama; this is all for your own good."

Kurama snorted in disdain. "Taka-kun has told me everything about Enma Daio's precious Natural Order and that damnable Book of Fate. Based on that and the fact that it was your father who personally invited me to go in the Human World and face the Reikai Hunter in the first place, I could care less about _my_ crimes against nature."

Koenma flinched at the mention of his father just as the genuflecting Botan looked up at him inquisitively. The Prince of the Spirit World cleared his throat and said to his subordinate, "Just hold on for a little longer, Botan. I'll help you take down Kurama as soon as I gather enough Spirit Energy inside my pacifier." He'd already used up most of the pacifier's energy on both Sensui and Amanuma during a much earlier conflict, so he wasn't quite sure how much reiki was left in the artifact. Nonetheless, he would still do whatever it took to set Kurama straight.

"Oh, so Botan doesn't know about Lord Enma's crimes, does she?" Kurama remarked, his reflexive, nonexistent breaths beginning to falter as Botan's reiki clasped at his very heart and seized at his ethereal lungs, making each mouthful of empty air shallower than the last.

All the same, Kurama strode forward on spaghetti legs and slowly made his way towards the blue-haired angel, stating, "I was one of the Class-S demons that Enma Daio invited to wreak havoc upon the Human World because he felt that the 'Natural Order' could only be brought back into balance by 'reintroducing' humanity's natural predator. And I'm sure you've all eard 'Munashii's' story by now. Enma's definition of the 'Natural Order' is fascism under his power, pure and simple."

"Stay right there," Koenma commanded, thrusting his pacifier at the wobbling kitsune. "Don't listen to him, Botan. He doesn't know what he's saying. I'm just about ready to release my own power, so don't lose your concentration on him."

Undeterred, the lightheaded half-youko continued to push his fading self forward, his vision glazing over at that point. "The Natural Order is an overrated law, and I'm not doing any of this for its sake. Quite the opposite-I don't like the idea of some 'god' or anyone in authority preemptively judging the course of a soul's life even before it breathed its first breath. It didn't work against Yusuke, it didn't work against Taka-kun, and it won't work against me and Asuka-san's impending rebirth. It's that simple."

"Get back and let us handle the rest, Kurama. Please." Botan was feeling quite confused at that point, and rightfully so. This was supposed to be a mission to save the kitsune from committing a deplorable act; yet, in hindsight, the whole catastrophe started from Enma Daio's own past atrocities. Could she, in good conscience, keep Kurama from committing his crime in the name of a belief system that spawned the whole problem in the first place? Two wrongs never made a right, after all.

"Botan, don't falter. Remember why you're doing this!" Koenma reminded his subordinate, his words subsequently striking a chord inside her. She forced herself to stand, faced the approaching Kurama, and said, "I can understand why you're feeling particularly protective and self-righteous over your actions. We certainly seem like the bad guys now, with us tricking you while you're in the middle of rescuing your damsel in distress."

"That's not what I meant, Botan. I know why you're doing this. We both want to do the right thing. But since we're also on the slippery slope of a road paved with our own good intentions, it all boils down to which of our goals is the lesser of two evils. You're here on some misguided quest to save me from myself. I'm here to rectify the very mistakes that the Spirit World's bureaucracy and red tape helped create. Mine is a victimless crime that could help return an innocent's life back to her; let me be."

"It's a slippery slope, but what can I say? You yourself are a slippery thief that has eluded death for so long that the best way for us to capture you is by playing your own mind games and tricking you at your most vulnerable moment. It's an unfortunate circumstance, I admit, but I meant what I said earlier: I can't stand the thought of you taking your life into your hands during the time when I was just getting to know you better. Truth be told, I won't let even Matsui Asuka's shattered soul get in the way of that."

"So are you putting more worth in my life than in Asuka-san's? I thought all life is supposed to be equal! Some Natural Order! To what lengths are you willing to stoop just to capture me? This life _belongs_ to her, dammit! I'm only trying to do what's right, and this death scene of mine is long overdue. You're right, Botan. The dead should lie to rest. That's what I intend to do."

"Well, should you disregard the life you already have just because of some unfulfilled fate that you shouldn't have anything to do with in the first place? You may think so, but many others don't, judging from all their reactions in your travels earlier. Yes, we watched those good-byes of yours. Every last one. What about your loved ones? What about their impending loss over their dear Kurama who's way too chivalric for his own good? No, Kurama. I've made up my mind. Your fate is now in the hands of the Spirit World. You're too irresponsible to be trusted with your own life." From there on end, coinciding with Koenma's own release of spirit energy, Botan let her Kiss of Death fully manifest in all its blazing glory, the torrent of power ostensibly immolating the hapless kitsune.

Kurama fought gamely against the veritable tsunami of reiki, and because of that, he paid a hefty price. No, he didn't suffer any sort of painful repercussions from the phantom maelstrom because of his stubbornness; he was instead forced to watch his own resolve inadvertently inflict the purest of tortures upon Botan's struggling form.

"Kurama, stop fighting it! You're hurting her!" Koenma yelled, adding even more flames to the fires of Kurama's growing doubt and Botan's wavering determination. Did this event figure into the Spirit World Prince's ultimate plan after all? How surprisingly diabolical of him, then; diabolical, but effective.

The ferry-girl thought she was going to die. The pain was unbearable, as if every cell in his body was being invaded by a malevolent virus. Tears of agony streamed from her eyes, but she fought against the blackness creeping at the edges of her vision with all her might.

She looked up and saw Kurama's white mask of terror and confusion slowly eat at his resolve like acid... just as Koenma planned. She balked, more out of exhaustion than disgust over her boss's methods, then justified to herself, 'Once you say you'll do anything, you might as well back it up. Don't chicken out on Kurama now.'

"To what lengths are _you_ willing to go in order to resurrect somebody that's supposed to be dead, Kurama? Are you prepared to sacrifice Botan's life in exchange for Matsui Asuka's? Can you really say that their lives are equal now? Then prove it. Show us your determination! If you really want your capricious death scene to happen, then kill Botan! Kill the grim reaper herself in order for you to fulfill your goddamned frivolities!" Koenma spat glibly, his strategy to appeal to Kurama's sympathy and Messiah Complex coming along smoothly.

This was one of only two instances that Kurama's complex roulette of a master plan wasn't able to account for. In the recent past, the kitsune had found a myriad of ways to deter Yusuke and the others' rather predictable attempts to derail his decision to end his life. For Yusuke, the redhead hit two birds with one stone by letting Kuwabara possess Munashii-like powers and forcing them to do battle with each other. For Hiei, Yoshitaka Tetsuma himself handled the fire demon quite soundly.

Then again, the reaction his mother gave to his good-bye... the one other instance that Kurama failed to anticipate with his master plan... was so shocking to him that it actually turned his idealistic worldview on its head. The way she'd objected Asuka Matsui's revival was particularly painful for him.

Kurama had designed this whole quest in as dynamic a way as possible to specifically ensure that no one outside of himself and a few others would get hurt or killed by his noble campaign. Sure, it was naive of him to think such things, but it did work that way to a certain extent.

Nonetheless, he was now faced with dire circumstances far worse than a mother rejecting her own daughter or two friends nearly murdering each other in cold blood as yet another life hung in balance of his precious death scene despite all his chess-like maneuverings and careful planning. What was he to do now?

A few moments later, a hideous flood of blue light surged upward the bridge, ripping through the air like the most corrupted of unholy fires as Botan's banshee shrieks of eternal torment contained within a single minute echoed throughout the false Eden, forcing Kurama to make his Catch-22 decision right then and there.

"Botan!" Desperately, Kurama reached out to the screaming girl, his heart holding fast to his steadfast will but his hands passing right through her body, his very essence finally dissipating into nothingness.

His hand; he couldn't feel it anymore. He felt the very same lack of sensation once before, during the time Munashii attacked him and the other spirit detectives inside Genkai's temple, where he was pinned to the wall like a butterfly as the undead puppet literally sucked the life out of him.

Kurama's vision eventually blurred, and the entire garden quickly faded like a ghost at dawn. In the corner of his eyes, he saw the ferry-girl reaching out for him and silently mouthing his name. After a few more minutes, there was nothing left of the redhead except a floating, nebulous blue-green ember. At that point, with no further resistance and strain upon her spirit, Botan promptly fainted on the debris-ridden alabaster floor.

"His will be done indeed," Koenma exhaled as he put his effervescent pacifier down and leaned on the cracked bridge railings for support, feeling understandably exhausted after expending enough spirit energy to put even a charging powerhouse like Toguro Ototo down.

The Prince's hands and arms shook in both exultation and release; for a moment there, he'd thought that Kurama was actually going to let Botan die for the sake of his insane and elaborate suicide, what with her going screeching to the brink of death and all. It was good thing that his gamble paid off in the end, or else he would have more than just his father's past messes to clean up.

After he'd finally caught up with his wheezy breath, Koenma crawled towards Botan's still form and cradled her unto his lap. "Botan, you did great! We've won! At last, we now have Kurama exactly where we want him and stopped him just in time... stopped him from making the biggest mistake of his two lifetimes. I'm really sorry that you had to risk so much in order to save that nutty old fox, but I guess your sacrifices paid off it the end; aren't you glad?"

Botan's eyes fluttered open as she looked blearily at her boss's relieved face. She afterwards smiled, admitting, "Well, I, for one, am actually glad that Botan hesitated from turning me into a hitodama long enough for me to possess her body, or else I would've never gotten the window of opportunity I needed to keep her from dying a pointless death."

"What... Kurama!" Before Koenma even had a chance to regain his wits, "Botan" immediately went for the will o' the wisp that was supposed to be "Kurama's" soul and revealed it to be the locket that the half-youko had been wearing earlier. "I can't believe you'd actually risk Botan's life to even that extent! How could you? If you've made a single mistake in your little gambit, she may have died for real!" muttered Koenma Daio, his whole face shining with sweat.

"Coming from you, that'd be a rather hypocritical assessment, dear prince. But you know what they say: extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice, and moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue," the Kurama-possessed Botan slickly rejoined as he used remnants of his youki and her reiki to summon a dear old friend of his. At last, the wheels and cogs of his careful, decades-long planning had finally come to fruition.

It was almost instantaneous. The energies flowed around Botan's body and through Kurama's spirit; he could immediately remember his ex-partner's voice and scent. The enchantment of the summon, bolstered by the echoes from his old life as an elusive Demon World bandit, suffused his entire world, turning it into a black radiance of potential and possibility. He grasped it tight and then, with his memories as a backdrop, he let his own inner light surge out from his host's form in the shape of a majestic, seven-tailed kitsune aura.

His summoning reached the critical point; its forces could no longer remain confined to the mere spectacle of light and matter. At that precise moment, the pendant dropped like a stone and all sounds, all light, and all energy surged back forcefully into Botan's svelte body, igniting it like a small sun. The ferry-girl collapsed under the weight of such power, and in her place came forth Kurama's astral form, finally manifesting itself once more after nearly being turned into a flare of ectoplasm.

From up above, the artificial paradise's rainbow filament shattered like glass, and in the midst of the falling shards of night sky, a voice boomed, "I'm sorry, Spirit World; Kurama has already decided who his executioner will be, and it isn't any of you oar-wielding, pacifier-sucking freaks. So stand aside-his true grim reaper has finally arrived."

Flying through the air like some sort of bird of prey, illuminated by the shivering flames encircling the pendant that once belonged to him, was a familiar figure that hovered above Koenma, Botan, and Kurama. On cape-like wings did Kuronue, the Black Raven himself, glide through the crumbling paradise of pretense even as new and improved versions of his familiar scythe weapons started to rain upon the garden, dropping from the broken ether like a million and one chained anchors.

Once he spotted his intended target, Kuronue tucked his feet from under him and kicked at the nearest airborne object-the surrounding debris of brittle filament-using it as a springboard and somersaulting back to land next to his old partner below. "Looks like I've arrived just in time," the Black Raven smilingly concluded.

"No," Kurama contended, smirking. "'Just in time' would be before I was paralyzed from the neck down, nearly turned into a ball of flame, and forced to take refuge inside the body of a ferry-girl. This is more like, 'almost too late', old friend."

Kuronue chuckled. "I suppose. It's been... what? Eight, nine years since you started your death scene? You sure took your time," he jibed dryly as he wrapped several chains over Kurama's body and hauled him away from a confounded, mouth-agape Koenma.

The endless downpour of metal links and blades from the damaged sky went on undeterred for quite sometime until the ground underneath everyone's feet finally gave way. A strangled yelp escaped Koenma's lips as he took hold of Botan's unconscious body and flew away from the resulting bedlam using the antiquated jetpack he'd sported since the days of the Ankoku Bujutsukai.

Conversely, Kuronue and Kurama just about embraced falling into the gaping darkness below them. They descended in what felt like a long, cavernous shaft that ended with a shock of water-presumably coming from the pond above-that was as icy and penetrating as death. Kurama's head sank quickly beneath the surface, and the impact of winter flame was there: blue, deep, and filled with unsaid regret. Also, in the confusion, he'd lost track of where his ex-comrade went.

Kurama feverishly struggled against the currents of what was presumably a deep trench from the River Styx itself, and by some miracle he managed to bob his face above the water despite of the heavy shackles on his body. He saw a forest of bamboo protruding all around him, which made him instinctively cling to the nearest pole in order to try and pull himself up from the bottomless channel.

The flames all around the pool were azure and depressing, and there was an unknowable desperation in their dance. Kurama pulled himself up with all his might, but the water clung to his body and made him heavy, dragging him down like tar. His hands slipped over the shaft of bamboo, and his legs kicked violently underneath the surface.

The water burned him, his feet were frozen, and the flame in that abominable spring was like a million voices that shrieked death and sadness at him. And, all the while, Kurama's gasps and the roar of the fire overhead filled his ears with the need to break free.

After traveling from one pole to another, Kurama soon found a portion of the spring that was no longer deep; he could almost paddle to the edge now. Then, at that juncture, the Black Raven suddenly appeared, stepping atop a bamboo pole near his former cohort. A wordless conversation took place between the two ex-partners-in-crime as they looked at each other meaningfully. Once everything was settled, Kuronue nodded his consent and started to act in accordance to his old friend's unsaid wishes.

* * *

Somehow, because of Kurama's untenable will and Kuronue's sudden appearance, the portal separating the Spirit World and the Dream World collapsed with along with the filament that served as the container of this fantasy Eden. Like the spilt blue blood of an ancient giant, water from the Sanzu no Kawa itself flooded everything around the isolated garden inside Kurama's subconscious, creating yet another channel for the infamous river.

After what seemed like hours, the hail of steel eventually ebbed. From there, just outside the devastated imaginary garden of porcelain, a shell-shocked Koenma and a bleary Botan unceremoniously landed on the debris-laden water from the River Styx, both of them suffering from varying degrees of bewilderment, astonishment, and disbelief at what had just happened. Fortunately, the sudden splash of cold water served to somewhat awaken them from their dazed, thousand-yard stares.

The pair of celestial entities warily peered from the outer fringes of what was once an idyllic piece of paradise, the whole place now looking like something out of a Salvador Dali nightmare, except the melting clocks had been replaced by metal chains hooked to blades that ravaged the land beyond recognition.

Regardless, the once-flourishing and tranquil courtyard had quickly been overrun by the dark and tangled snarl of heavy metals that stretched from the infinity of the smashed heavens above to the murky depths of the broken ground below, like an industrial park version of a kudzu menace.

Weathered stones and battered trees jutted haphazardly from the cracked and unsteady tiles that still creaked and groaned beneath the duo's feet as they attempted to move through the junk and wreckage that choked everything in sight. Then, unbidden, Koenma hissed a rebuke that completely jolted Botan out of her trance.

"We were so close, Botan! So close! We almost had Kurama's soul at our grasp-at our very fingertips-but you blew it!" Koenma scolded his subordinate, torn between smacking her outright for her bungling or going easy on her after being drawn in by one of Kurama's passion-driven mind games. As a result, Botan couldn't tell if she was being told off or given a guilt-trip.

"We could have stopped him, you know. We could have prevented him from fulfilling that mad suicidal plan of his and... and... rehabilitated him or done something, _anything_, to prevent him from hurting his friends and family on a capricious whim! But you just had to lose heart, didn't you? You just had to let him play with your emotions and hesitate; Kurama himself told me that you did. How could you? Have you forgotten what was at stake?"

If the Spirit World Administrator was feeling divided over this issue, Botan felt the complete opposite. With nary a stutter, she answered back, "If I hadn't let go at that point, I would have died right then and there beside Kurama, and he _knew_ that. That's the reason why he gave up fighting against my Kiss of Death and surrendered himself to-"

"Have you gone completely insane, Botan? _That was the whole point of this entire plan! _Kurama was _supposed_ to give up!" Koenma suddenly snapped, making Botan flinch at her boss's rare outburst of non-puerile anger. "Look, we both know that Kurama won't let you die. It's become less of a moral code for him and more of a natural consequence."

Undeterred yet growing increasingly emotional, Botan shakily retorted, "So who's the real user, Koenma-sama? Who's the real hero and real villain in this slippery slope of a plan of yours? Even during the time when I was barely conscious-using all my strength to subdue Kurama-I was still able to overhear you mock him with, 'Can you really say that Botan and Asuka's lives are equal now?' Just because you wanted to fix another one of your father's messes doesn't give you the right to go to such extremes!"

"Don't you dare turn this around on _me!_" Koenma exploded just short of jumping up and down in sheer exasperation over his underling's lack of comprehension. "You weren't even really dying! It was all a bluff! Sure, because of Kurama's unbelievable willpower, you would've needed to use up your entire supply of spirit energy to get him, but you won't die because of it! It's because you didn't turn him into a hitodama that Kurama was able to possess your body and escape! It's your fault! Don't you get it? We could have used his compassion to our advantage, Botan! We could have saved his life through his own goodness! What in the infinite hells is wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that? The fact that you need me to answer what's wrong with using people's inherent goodness against them appalls me, Koenma-sama!" Botan confessed with a mixture of bile and incredulity in her tone, making the unthinking 'sama' honorific sound rather ironic.

"It's not like that! Don't twist my words, Botan! I was doing this for both you and Kurama's own good," Koenma rationalized, pacing around frenetically as he grasped for the right words to convey his intentions, knowing deep in his heart that he was doing the right thing and that Botan was merely misinterpreting his actions.

"This isn't about the road to hell or any other silly saying! It's about us trying to save a man's life and making him see the errors of his ways. Please don't give me that look. You're at fault because of your misplaced idealism. Sometimes we have to bend the rules to accomplish loftier goals, or be trapped by our virtues, accomplishing nothing. 'Sic vis pacem, para bellum.' If you want peace, prepare for war."

"Stop. Just... stop," Botan quietly begged, turning her head away from her superior. "It was a brilliant plan, maybe. A victimless crime at worst. But understand this, Koenma-sama-as is the nature of the Kiss of Death, Kurama and I became one mind at a certain point. Did you know what he was thinking, at the back of his mind, when he gave up our tug-of-war and voluntarily surrendered to me? I know. Aside from wanting to save me, he also wanted to save you from yourself as well."

"What do you mean he wanted to 'save me from myself'? We're the ones who are supposed to do that to him!" Koenma defensively remarked, adding, "You can't blame me for deceiving Kurama, because there's no reasoning with him at that point. I did what I thought was just, and that's that."

"There's no justice in what we've just done!" Botan exclaimed, finally voicing out her apprehensions in one simple statement. "No, we have none at all. Not in the way we've handled it. Lying to Kurama, lying to ourselves, hypocritically breaking every last rule and moral code we have just so we can outdo the schemer at his own game; can we really cross the very edge of the ethical line and still justify our actions with our good intentions? Yes, I have no doubt that we did have good intentions for doing all this, but in the end, so did your father."

"I AM NOT MY FATHER!" Koenma shouted, doing the old and silly cliché of trying to convince himself more than he did his accuser by screaming his convictions really loudly. "Don't you dare compare me to that... to that...!"

"Yes, I do dare. And you should be more like Enma Daio, really. At least _ he_ was under no delusions that the crimes he committed for the greater good was just or right." It was at that point that Botan knew she'd finally crossed the line she was hesitant to traverse for Kurama's sake earlier.

She winced, expecting the slap and stern rebuke that never came. She afterwards proceeded to apologize profusely to Koenma for what she'd said, but her words appeared rather empty and insincere compared to her sharp and sobering indictment.

Just then, out of the blue, the tense situation was diffused by the echoing footsteps of a familiar stranger. "You're both wrong. You've both been played for fools. The fox made you think that you were manipulating _him_ and his good will, but then he turned your plan on its head and beat you at your own game. Shame on you two."

"You...!" the Spirit World Guardians breathlessly chorused, surprised by the newcomer's sudden appearance. "Weren't you...?" Koenma broke off warily, unsure that who he was seeing really was who he was seeing.

"Spare yourselves this talk about ethics and justice. It's sickening and pointless. Besides, I'm already here to beat some sense into the fox, whatever it takes. Even if I have to take his kicking and screaming soul back to the world of the living, I'll do it. So stop the morality play and do something useful, for once."

"But... how? Why?" Botan managed to squeak out, intrigued by this person's unwavering determination. "Everybody else who've tried to stop Kurama from his heroic sacrifice has failed. He was even able to confront his own mother about it, and her pleas for him to stop didn't change his mind one bit. What makes you think you'll do a better job?"

"Because he's seriously pissing me off, and even he can't see what's coming next."

* * *

The dream from the distant past replayed itself inside Kurama's psyche for one last time...

The scene replayed itself painfully. The loss was silly, stupid; the irony of it all lies in its stupidity and silliness. Then came the gentle tinkling, like a little bell.

His smiling face casually glanced back at the jewel he accidentally dropped. He couldn't be stopped. That pendant meant a lot to him. That pendant was the very first loot he'd ever stolen as Kurama's partner-in-crime, and he kept it as a symbol of his loyalty to the Silver Fox's Guild of Demon Thieves and their own cherished partnership.

He promised that he would come back; all that for a simple necklace that he always wore a certain way. He was always so headstrong. He always went about things in a straightforward manner.

This-his efforts to always be true to himself-led to his own death. Bamboo shoots shot up as he was helplessly caught in the elaborate trap. Blood dripped mercilessly on the ground; an unwanted blood offering. He still clasped the jewel with his right hand in an iron grip. It gently swayed in the wind.

It swayed back and forth, glinting like a flying guillotine. Then there was nothing but the black.

It was during in the ensuing darkness that Kurama realize why he'd been dreaming this dream-his first dream since Munashii first appeared-in the first place. He had one last loose end to attend to, and because of certain circumstances, this loose end now had the dubious honor of ending his eventful life for the sake of another's well-deserved rebirth. And this loose end's name was Kuronue, the Black Raven.

Indeed, the first dream that Kurama had since these events started would soon become the last dream he would ever have.

* * *

Into Death's Dungeon did Kurama's chain-bound spirit fall; the storm of guillotined death raining upon the hapless garden, putting a thousand pounds of pressure on every square inch of the structure's surface. It lifted all the floors upward, shearing off its very foundations and demolishing it beyond all recognition.

Trees, the alabaster bridge, the tiles, and manicured lawns soon became deadly shrapnel as chunks of land ranging from fist-sized to wall-sized were tossed about. Millions of shards made from a variety of objects quickly became sharpened daggers that sliced through air at the speed of bullets. In violent undulations, whole floors were ripped apart by the relentless chained blades. Then, yielding to gravity, the ground collapsed, sandwiching together and funneling tons of debris down towards a giant crater blasted out by the succeeding aftershocks.

Kurama's descent seemed to last forever. He was off-balance; he could feel himself starting to go into a spin. Somehow, maybe by sheer willpower, he kept his body straight. Then the onrush of air abruptly ended with a sudden blast of water that hadn't been there a moment before, jolting the half-youko awake with an abstemious shock of blue regret.

He balked and choked; the liquid was as icy and penetrating as death. The impact wasn't as bad as he'd feared, but it was still pretty bad. There was a blaze of pain on his entire body and he cried out. He rolled, sprawling in the water, feeling as much as hearing the garden's muted scream of fright from above.

The water burned him, and the chaos on the surface of this abominable spring was like a million voices that shrieked death and sadness at him. All the while, Kurama's gasps and the roar of the ire overhead filled his ears with the need to break free.

Then, upon realizing that his very struggles against the murky depths would be the cause of an unplanned and not-so-meaningful demise, he went motionless. Consequently, like a Chinese finger trap that had been alleviated of unnecessary resistance, he found himself flat on his back, free from his metallic and liquid bonds as he floated upward.

He saw a forest of bamboo protruding around him, which made him backstroke to the nearest pole in order to pull himself up from the bottomless channel. The will o' the wisp flames all around the pool were azure and depressing, and there was an unknowable desperation in their dance.

Indeed, this underground waterway truly was part of the infamous River Styx of legend. Meanwhile, in the corner of his eye, something in the depths of the small swamp croaked deeply, and a dark shape flapped between the bamboo before disappearing into the darkness. He felt too tired to pay the phantom any heed.

After traveling from one pole to another, Kurama soon found a portion of the spring that was no longer deep. Feeling out a ledge connected to the cavern's edge with his feet, he surmised that he could now walk upright on these waist-high banks without fear of submersion. As such, he swam to that junction and, once there, lay quietly against the cave wall and rested his weary soul. He was beyond exhausted at that point.

Instead of the muted drone Kurama usually heard in pools and bathtubs, he could hear nothing in this water other than interminable shrieking. And when he at last found the strength to open his eyes, he saw his own hair, flaming red and unraveled with water, and beyond it a pair of eyes that burned as hot and intense as embers. 'Kuronue.'

The Black Raven stepped atop a bamboo pole near his former cohort. A wordless dialogue took place between the two former comrades as they looked at each other meaningfully. Once everything was settled, Kuronue nodded his consent and started to act in accordance to his old friend's unsaid request.

The pendant... Kuronue's one caprice... reintegrated around the youkai's neck and swung to and fro like the flying guillotine Kurama kept seeing in his first and most recurring Munashii-induced dream. It served more than just a symbol-it was an outright insignia; a medal of honor, if you will. The half-youko had finally picked who his executioner was going to be, and the dirty deed was about to get done at long last.

Kurama saw Kuronue drop towards him as though he were easy prey riddled with immeasurable, paralyzing fear, and yet the cry he let out when his former comrade crashed onto him was more of pained resignation than betrayal and surprise.

Pinned beneath his dead weight, the redhead was powerless; he felt the spring water, that cold blue flame, rush through his nose and mouth and into the deepest recesses of his body. From there, Kuronue pushed the both of them back into the bottomless pits of this endless trench.

The water filled both of them, pulling them down to unreachable depths. His chest ached with a pressure he never thought possible, and his limbs had become leaden, dead with acquiescence and exhaustion. He didn't sink as much as plummet into endless, paralyzing darkness.

But just before Kurama heard the deadly bell toll as his partner plunged towards him like a more classical, westernized version of the infamous scythe-wielding grim reaper-his raggedy hat, stringy hair, frayed wings and robe, velvety eyes, and ominous features living up to his avian counterpart's name-the Black Raven stopped short of outright decapitating him, instead scooping him right out of the water using the chains of his nebulous weapon and throwing him wholesale towards a nearby ledge.

Kurama sputtered and blinked in surprise; he was at a loss for words. Kuronue had him where he wanted him, but then decided to act needlessly heroic and spared him at the last minute. What was going on?

Meanwhile, Kuronue followed through with his acrobatic feat, tumbling in midair, rebounding perpendicularly on a nearby bamboo pole, and landing near Kurama's feet with a flourish. The pair stared at each other for quite sometime, the Black Raven's blank look complementing the redhead's own incredulous glare.

Kuronue was the first one to break the ice. "You haven't given me a reason yet," he began with barely a whisper, his eyes seemingly boring into the very depths of Kurama's borrowed soul.

"P-Pardon?" Kurama managed to confusedly sputter, seemingly hypnotized by Kuronue's predatory stare. "Give you a reason to what?" An image of Yoshitaka Tetsuma's poker face briefly appeared in the redhead's mind, superimposing itself unto the Black Raven's sharp and mischievous features as though they were representing different sides of the same coin.

"You haven't given me a good reason to kill you is what I'm saying," Kuronue huffily clarified as he tossed his ebony locks to the side of his face, waking Kurama from his intense reverie-within-a-reverie. The resurrected demon let out a long suffering and tired sigh.

"To be quite frank, I find this whole Russian Roulette of a plan of yours rather dubious, if not altogether convoluted and nonsensical. Why the hell did you choose me as your executioner? I'm sure that Toguro Ani wanted very much to kill you, among many other enemies you've accrued throughout your two lifetimes.

"Then there's also Yomi, who was a bit of an impulsive twat during our heyday, but he became quite the magnificent bastard nowadays; I'd bet he'd love to finish you off. Also, I'm informed of yet another bird-themed opponent of yours that was quite obsessed with your death _and_ your beauty; the poor man's version of myself, the one who calls himself 'Crow'."

Kurama couldn't help but laugh daintily at Kuronue's odd remarks; the disdain that the Black Raven displayed over the psychotic Karasu's obsession over him nearly bordered on to jealousy to his ears. However, something rather amiss occurred to him. "Wait. You've been dead for centuries. How did you know about Karasu? Or Yomi and Toguro Ani, for that matter? And what would you care about the Human World practices of playing with a loaded gun?"

"Huh. And here you claimed to have planned everything from the start, yet you have no idea how I knew those things! For shame, Kurama! For shame!" Kuronue teased playfully, just like in olden times, when he and Youko Kurama were still adventuring across the vast wilderness of the Demon World with their Guild of Demon Thieves. "Or am I just another one of your long good-byes, old friend?"

Kurama sat up and stared up at Kuronue meaningfully. "If there's anybody that's going to say good-bye here, then it's going to be me. I'll make sure of that this time around."

Kuronue smirked and rolled his eyes at the sheer cheesiness of their conversation, his tongue firmly placed on his cheek. Nevertheless, he insisted quite earnestly, "So why me, Kurama?" as he himself knelt down and leveled his gaze at the soaked redhead. "Why give me the dubious honor of finishing you off? What makes me so special from all your myriad of enemies... or even friends?"

His gaze downcast, Kurama quietly replied, "The same reason that I went along with Yomi's diabolical plans during the period when the Demon World was in political turmoil because of Raizen's then-imminent death. I owed him that much after hiring a demon assassin to finish him off, and now I owe you so much more for leaving you to die in that damnable bamboo trap so many centuries ago."

Kuronue snorted and shook his head in mock disappointment. "...That's it? That's your reason for picking me? How needlessly sentimental. I specifically told you to run away and save yourself at the time. Stop beating yourself up about it. My death was not your fault, unlike what you did to Yomi."

"Is it really 'needless', Kuronue?" Kurama inquired. "A good friend of mine once told me that, 'There is no one who does not carry scars on his heart. If there were someone in the world like that, he would be a shallow soul.' Sorry for not being shallow enough to brush your death aside, old friend."

Kuronue chuckled. "No, no. You misunderstand me. I do appreciate your sentimentally, but what you don't realize is that you don't sound a thing like the Kurama I knew before. Have you forgotten? When you were still the youko, you would probably say that my death served me right; that the fact that I'd lay my life for a mere trinket was unfathomable.

"But now, you're actually getting so bent out of shape in regards to my death that you're actually blaming yourself for it. Such a change in attitude in just more than a decade and a half! Now that's something."

"Time isn't the only thing that makes people change, Kuronue. Certain circumstances can do the job just as well," Kurama answered back, then felt as though that his statement didn't quite cover what had happened to him in the course of sixteen years. He tried again.

"Every month or so since participating in the Dark Tournament, I'm assaulted with the feeling that I'm turning back into Youko Kurama again, even though I remain in Shuichi's body. And when that happens, I notice that I become extremely combative and belligerent. In many ways, my regression to my youko state was supposed to be my plan from the very start; to leave kaasan-Shiori-san once I've regained my full power, but 'certain circumstances' changed that plan altogether. Or rather, something inside me... not quite the youko, and not quite Minamino Shuichi... decided on doing _this_ instead."

"That's the thing, isn't it?" Kuronue smugly interjected with a maddeningly cocky smirk on his face. "Doesn't this whole escapade make you think that, at times, you have three instead of two personalities? The good son, Shuichi Minamino; the cruel youko thief back in your past life in the Demon World; and Kurama, the gray shade halfway between the two. Neither fully human nor fully demon, this 'Kurama' is who you are now."

"How did you know about that?" Kurama apprehensively demanded in a manner more reminiscent of his darker shade of gray personality. The pinpoint accuracy of Kuronue's deconstruction of the half-youko's lifelong (in human years, at least) identity crisis bordered on nigh-omniscience. "I've never told anyone about that. Not even Shuichi's mother. How could you...?"

Just then, realization dawned on Kurama as Kuronue justified the former's suspicions with a simple catchphrase. "You'd go through heaven and hell for Asuka-san's sake, won't you?"

'I get it now. Taka-kun's eyes always did bother me. They kept reminding me of something... something that I just can't put my finger on. But now everything's crystal clear. Taka-kun's eyes were merely a reflection of Kuronue's own eyes-a reflection of my oldest regret.'

"I knew Taka-kun must have been hinting on something huge when he first gave me that pendant of yours, but the fact that he implied that _you_ were my long-awaited executioner came as a total shock to me!" It was now Kurama's turn to chuckle dryly. "So now what? Are you now going to admit that you and Tetsuma Yoshitaka are one and the same person or something?"

"No, not exactly. This situation is more akin to what the Reikai Hunter did to that Kuwabara friend of yours earlier; even before he confronted Hiei all those months past, Munashii had already taken the trouble of scouring the Spirit World for my lost soul and merging it with his, combining both our memories together to develop an almost encyclopedic knowledge of you and your history... or something to that effect. I don't know; I kind of just got here," Kuronue professed with a smile and a shrug.

"I see. Wow. The lengths Munashii has taken to assure my death scene is amazing, isn't it?" Kurama appraised. "It's reassuring to me that someone so powerful is doing something constructive with his powers instead of the expected wanton death and destruction that most men like him succumb to... Is there something wrong, Kuronue? What's bothering you? Why are you looking at me like that?"

At that point, Kuronue's expression had turned somber. "Indeed, your will is the shadow man's will, because he doesn't have a will of his own. Whatever your heart desired, whether you were consciously aware of it or not, he accomplished to the letter for the sake of his undead girlfriend's life you've stolen but are now willing to return for some reason. That's the gist of it, I gather. But, like I said, I'm not quite buying the whole concept myself, sorry to say," the Black Raven nonchalantly surmised as he idly fingered the bejeweled pendant around his neck.

Kurama raised a curious eyebrow at Kuronue's deduction, not quite sure if the youkai was setting up yet another one of his acerbic quips and whatnot. Certainly, the whole thing sounded ridiculous when the Black Raven put things that way. "What do you mean by that?"

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: The more things change...

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. I joke about and reference yaoi at times, but I do not outright write about it. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Hanggang sa muli!  
Abdiel


	23. Chapter 22: Revolution 2

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Because of the nature of this (needlessly) long fic, expect a slew of mandatory flashbacks. Sorry about that.

Disclaimer: Yuyu Hakusho is the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. This fic therefore also belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Credit for the excerpts goes to the English-translated "Le Peti't Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupery.

* * *

** Chapter 22: Revolution (Part 2)**

* * *

"Think about it, Kurama. Since when did you ever believe that sheer, bloody-minded determination is enough to make up for any deficiency in your pipe dream to challenge fate and destiny? That's your idiot comrades' shtick, not yours! Couple that with the fact that you didn't even expect me here after summoning me with my own pendant, and even the most deluded of fools would feel a bit hesitant about following your so-called lifelong plan that you can't seem to completely remember! Doesn't any of that strike you as suspicious at all?"

"This from the man who threw his life away to pick up jewelry!" Kurama retorted, nearly letting out an incredulous laugh at Kuronue's expense. "Granted, I'm the last person you'd expect to throw caution in the wind, but I believe it's characteristic enough of me to use resolve and careful planning hand-in-hand, right?"

"Ha. Now that's the Kurama I knew and loved," Kuronue teased as he gently nudged his flabbergasted friend's tapered chin with his fist. "Now, if you can only use your cutting logic and reason to pick apart this quest of yours instead of rationalizing its contrivances, then we might go somewhere. Sorry, try again."

"What's your problem this time?" Kurama challenged, his lengthier-than-average patience finally wearing thin.

"I still don't think you've done any careful planning on this quest at all. This has all been Tetsuma Yoshitaka's handiwork, and you know it. How can I be certain that you're not merely being used by him to bring Matsui Asuka back, hmmm?" Kuronue speculated, and then crossed his arms as he expectantly waited for Kurama to answer back.

"You've confirmed it yourself! Youko Kurama and I have had a schism in our personalities ever since the Ankoku Bujutsukai! My plan had to be a bit convoluted and clandestine because I had to keep myself-that is, the youko-from undermining it," Kurama articulated as clearly as he could possibly muster, nearly to the point of pleading Kuronue to believe him. "Up until now, I'm still piecing together my plan because I had no other choice but to erase it from my mind before the youko could find out about it."

"Then why the hell should I follow _your_ command? Wasn't I the youko's partner? Who are you to demand me what to or not to do? Don't think that I don't know what you did to the youko back in autumn and when you had to fight against Hiei. So tell me, why should I follow the will of my ex-partner's murderer?" Kuronue argued again, all traces of impish humor quickly leaving his face.

"So you won't help me fulfill my will?" Kurama coolly asked as he matched Kuronue's deadeye stare pupil-for-pupil. "If that is so, then will you get in my way or not?"

After a brief pause, Kuronue exhaled laboriously. "...I didn't say that I won't do it. As far as I'm concerned, a lighter shade of gray or no, you're still Kurama. What you did to your older personality earlier is your business. But I will say this again; give me a good reason to go through this execution of yours, or kiss it good-bye.

"Munashii may have snatched me from the jaws of oblivion, but he has another think coming if he believes that I'm willing to repay that kindness by murdering my obviously brainwashed old friend. For me to execute you without fully knowing what's going on is impossible for me to do. That's a fair enough deal, right? So go ahead. Convince me of your convictions, Kurama."

From there, Kurama remembered just who it was he was talking to. It had been centuries past, so his memories of his long-lost friend were rather vague, to say the least. Moreover, his most recent memories of Kuronue weren't memories of him at all, but that of a demon imposter from the Nether World who loved to spout out the words "Revenge!" and "Traitor" for the sake of messing with his head.

The true Kuronue was not just a straightforward and impetuous man, but an idealistic person as well. He would never go about doing something he didn't totally have faith in. Though he would've gone to the ends of the three worlds for Youko Kurama's sake with the same single-minded devotion as Yoshitaka Tetsuma himself, he would only do so if he knew deep down his heart that he was doing something worthwhile.

Fine, then. For Kurama, this was just one last hurdle he needed to overcome before finally ending his long and involved journey the way it was supposed to end. Not in a blaze of senseless glory that his youko self insisted upon, but in a more meaningful way; he was about to become a falling star that could grant the one wish that he most desired.

"Munashii hasn't brainwashed me, Kuronue. There's no way that he can, not with what Enma Daio did to him. I was the one who formulated this elaborate gambit, with all its contingencies, inconsistencies, and improvisations continuously getting adjusted to suit all possible scenarios. I admit that it wasn't the best, easiest, or most consistent of plans, and I had to abort several other ideas to make it move forward. It doesn't make it any less _my_ plan, even though it's a lot less methodical than most of my other plots. It must have something to do with the youko not being the one who planned it in the first place, I suppose. In any case, this whole thing truly is my will and my desire. There's no doubt about it."

"Oh really? That's your excuse for your stumbling and convoluted plan? 'It's already done, so let's just get on with it because I really, really want to do it!' Well, I have some bad news for you; it turns out that wanting something really bad doesn't make it real," Kuronue replied, tearing asunder Kurama's rationalization with half the words and twice the glibness.

"Like I said, this was in no way a perfect plan. Not by any stretch of the imagination. It had to be hidden to the point that even I didn't know it existed up until a certain point, or else it will all unravel. Nevertheless, I really want to give back to Matsui Asuka what truly belongs to her. I want to do this," Kurama reiterated unwearyingly.

"Wait, so instead of enjoying your life as Shuichi Minamino, you just suddenly gained the urge to kill yourself. Is that right? More to the point, why do you need to die in such a particular way? Why do you need to die a certain way in order to 'fulfill your will' anyway? What's the difference between drowning into that bottomless spring by my hand over being evaporated into nonexistence by Karasu or sliced to bits by Shigure?" Kuronue countered reasonably.

"There's no place for me or the youko in the new world. As the youko, I've already done everything I can possibly do with my life. I've climbed all the mountains I can climb and swam all my seas I can swim. I've lived a life that's way beyond fulfilled already. I've made my mark in the three worlds, and I have no reason to exist anymore. As Kurama, I cannot stand living a life that wasn't supposed to be mine in the first place. When presented with a way to set things right, of course I'll jump at the first opportunity.

"So now, whether you think I deserve to or not, I've decided to die the way that I want to die. In fact, I had three options of doing so: dying as a human according to Shuichi's will, dying in glorious combat according to the youko's will, and dying in a way that finally ties the biggest loose end in my entire life, according to Kurama's will. Simply put, I chose the third option; I chose to die the way I want to die, thank you very much," Kurama revealed in a far more convincing manner than his 'imperfect plan' speech earlier.

Kuronue nodded curtly at the redhead's answer as he contemplatively tapped his finger on his chin. "Okay. Fair enough. So let's review the situation so far. Basically, you want to sacrifice yourself in order to undo some dickhead Class-S human's mistake of shattering some girl's soul who was supposed to be reincarnated in that body you've-or rather, you'd-been occupying for a few years. That's fine.

"Through a cruel twist of fate, and just because your youko self is such a dickhead himself, you had intentionally possessed said girl's body to piss off the very same Class-S idiot after he was ordered by Enma Daio to reel you in like a fish and use you as yet another sock puppet demon glorifying the Spirit World's totalitarian regime. Those events sound believable enough, I guess.

"Now, here's the clicher. Through the miracle of fickleness and hidden-and-convoluted-but-generally-well-executed plans, you're now about to give back the life you'd stolen by a method best described as a gigantic leap of faith and logic never before seen since the Spanish Inquisition.

"From there lies the problem. What if you're wrong? What if your newly found faith in bloody-minded determination is just a bunch of crock and snake oil? What if, after you die, you end up just like the people who'd killed the goose who laid golden eggs-that is, you end up with nothing? What if... and you really have to suspend your disbelief here... you can't glue back Humpty Dumpty with all your love, faith, willpower, and Munashii dependency? Have you ever considered that even once, old friend?"

Without missing a beat, Kurama answered cryptically, "When we abandon dreams and fantasies, reality is revealed as empty. It's nothing short of absurd. There is no objective order in the world. All values are baseless and reasoning is impotent. Do you know what that means, Kuronue?"

Kuronue shrugged. "Sounds like fortune cookie bullshit that's trying to pass itself off as a deep and meaningful koan of sorts. It also has nothing to do with what we're talking about. Oh, did you know that Americans have no idea that fortune cookies are a purely American invention? That's how I feel about your explanation and your death scene in general-a shallow river that only looks deep because it's dark and murky."

"I'll make it simple enough for you to understand. Matsui Asuka has learned to tame the fox, and because of that, his reality suddenly has meaning once more. She gave him-an old, tired, and wretched soul who kept on existing for sake of survival-something to dream about and aspire to."

Though still unimpressed by Kurama's pretty expressions, the now somewhat beguiled Kuronue eventually inquired, "What do you mean by that?"

"Let me tell you a little story..." And so Kurama narrated a tale he'd heard as a six-year-old human child from Shuichi Minamino's mother every bedtime.

* * *

_"Good morning," said the fox._

_"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around, he saw nothing._

_"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree." _

_"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."_

_"I am a fox," the fox said._

_"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy." _

_"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed." _

_"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince. But, after some thought, he added, "What does that mean, 'tame'?"_

_"Men," said the fox." They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"_

_"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean, 'tame'?"_

_"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."_

_"'To establish ties'?"_

_"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..." _

_"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."_

_"It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things."_

_"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince. _

_The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious._

_"On another planet?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Are there hunters on this planet?"_

_"No."_

_"Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?"_

_"No."_

_"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox. But he came back to his idea. _

_"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. _

_"I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. _

_"And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."_

_The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time. "Please, tame me!" he said._

* * *

"Kurama has now managed to isolate a small pocket of the Dream World from the Real World because of his immovable willpower. Truly, it was a mistake on our part to presume that he's merely been depending on Munashii for all of his errands; he actually had every last contingency and probability covered. Even his so-called 'long good-byes' had a hidden agenda."

The diminutive person harrumphed in response, then turned towards Botan and asked-more like demanded-her to quicken the pace of her breaching through the pocket dimension hidden within the inner depths of the demolished garden they were standing on.

"Hold your horses, shrimp! I'm doing the best that I can under the circumstances. I still haven't fully recharged from our last encounter with Kurama, y'know," Botan dissented wearily, to which she merely got a rude snort for her trouble.

After a few more minutes that seemed to drag on for days, the ferry-girl finally found the opening she was looking for; the remnants of her connection with Kurama's soul care of the Kiss of Death.

Her head swam. Disheveled blue hair clung to her face, obscuring her pink eyes and confusing her vision as a hot, unseen wind tugged at it in every which way. She looked up through the fog in front of her and squinted at the blurry nothingness.

Botan proverbially blinked. Her meditation and pure concentration had finally paid dividends for her; she could now see a clear path inside Kuronue's manufactured pocket dimension. She felt a touch of self-satisfied smugness for her accomplishment, especially after the hurtful mind games that Kurama played upon her; hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and some such.

Once Botan finally managed to open a small but usable wormhole leading to the empty void where Kurama and Kuronue disappeared to, she urged the arrogant little man beside her to plunge into the endless abyss. "Go! Go in now! You're the only one who can help Kurama-" The rest of Botan's gung-ho cheers were abruptly cut short by the tiger-like roar of the spiritual tempest.

So, with a pithy pledge that promised violence and death (or, in short, a violent death) to all those who dared opposed him, the cloaked crusader went off into the void underneath the decimated garden, the myriad of chains rustling after him like the still rapids of a metallic waterfall.

"...Besides, you're the only one who can fit inside that portal anyway!" Botan accidentally screeched after the hysterical wail of the maelstrom she created died down. "Whoops. Heh. I hope he didn't hear that."

* * *

_The fox gazed at the little prince for a long time. "Please, tame me!" he said._

_"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."_

_"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."_

_"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince._

_"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me... like that... in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."_

_The next day the little prince came back._

_"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you... One must observe the proper rites..." _

_"What is a rite?" asked the little prince._

_"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."_

_So the little prince tamed the fox._

* * *

"Do you still have any trouble with my explanation?" Kurama queried once he finished his story and explained what it meant, the soft rustle of the bamboo leaves and the quiet crackle of the will o' the wisps dancing on the surface of the bottomless spring the only other sounds breaking the thick blanket of silence.

After a short pause, Kuronue solemnly shook his head. "No. I've heard all that I wanted to hear."

Kurama braced himself for Kuronue's final verdict, warily inquiring, "So what's your decision? Are you going to help me fulfill my one last wish, or are you going to get in the way of it?"

Kuronue smiled at Kurama with approval and resolute purpose, much to the latter's surprise. "Your will be done, Kurama. Your will be done." From there, pandemonium erupted in the form of metal chains and scythes that seemed to come nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

* * *

_So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near..._

_"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."_

_"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."_

_"Yes, that is so," said the fox._

_"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince._

_"Yes, that is so," said the fox._

_"Then it has done you no good at all!"_

_"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:_

_"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."_

_The little prince went away, to look again at the roses._

_"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world." _

_And the roses were very much embarrassed._

_"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you-the rose that belongs to me._

_"But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose._

* * *

Crumbling memories scattered in the harsh winds of amnesiac nothingness frantically reassembled themselves in one particularly wretched soul's mind for the last time as he tried to make sense out of what just happened, wondering where he'd gone wrong; what mistake he'd committed; if he still had a another opportunity to fix it all.

The fractured recollections drifted in a dark sea somewhere below the reach of consciousness, oblivious to the passage of time and the void where they'd ultimately end up. There were some voids that couldn't be filled, however; some problems that kept returning after they were solved; second chances to make or correct a bad decision.

* * *

_Forty-five minutes earlier, just before Kurama's death scene... _

With a pithy pledge that promised violence and death (or, in short, a violent death) to all those who dared opposed him, the cloaked crusader went off into the void underneath the decimated Garden of Four Seasons, the multitude of chains rustling after him like the still rapids of a metallic waterfall.

As he fell into Kuronue's proverbial rabbit hole, the demon tensed. A familiar presence took shape well within his consciousness as a strange calmness started to envelop him. He mentally sneered.

'You.'

'We meet again. It's been a while.'

'Let's end this now, shadow man. You won't be able to delude the fox any longer. After I wake him up, I'll stop your little puppet show once and for all.'

'You're either stubborn or in denial. This was never a puppet show of mine to begin with. No matter how many times you say so, it won't make it true. Now watch as my beloved Minamino Shuichi finally comes back to life.'

The demon harrumphed. '...You're talkative today.'

'You too.'

And there was silence once more from the shadows inside the impossibly deep underground springs in between the Spirit World and the Dream World.

* * *

_An hour earlier, on the decimated grounds of the false Eden... _

Botan worriedly tugged at Koenma's sleeves like a lost little girl seeking parental affection, finding it quite difficult to find the words that'd most appropriately express her remorse for the unthinking insults she'd let loose earlier. The celestial pair had been at it for quite a few minutes already, in fact, unsure of how to properly broach the subject and break the ice. "K-K-Koenma-sama, I'm so sorry for...!"

Koenma grabbed his subordinate's supple hands encouragingly. "Don't be. You were right. I was getting so ahead of myself, thinking that saving Kurama's life justified my manipulation of you and your feelings for him to get to that end. 'The end justifies the means' is exactly something that my father would say, right? I should be the one apologizing to you and Kurama, Botan."

"K-Koenma-sama!" a blushing Botan blissfully chirped, wiping off the tears on the sides of her eyes as she inadvertently buried her employer in a chest-full of her own warmth and softness.

'Ayame-san, forgive me too!' Koenma mentally apologized to someone else in particular as his muffled voice more-or-less shared Botan's enthusiasm, albeit with definite hints of embarrassment and guilt.

"Yes, yes. You're both sorry. Can we hurry this up?" the diminutive figure from before rolled his eyes and sneered contemptuously at the pair, his lithe, cross-armed form leaning casually on a nearby tree stump.

"Excuse me? We're having a moment here!" Botan complained as she relinquished her hold on Koenma (much to the Spirit World Prince's relief), her right eyebrow arched and her left hand on her hip.

Ignoring the irate ferry-girl, the demon turned towards Enma's pacifier-sucking son and queried, "You've been spying on the fox's movement ever since he entered the Dream World, haven't you? Tell me more about his plans."

Before Botan could protest the midget's out-and-out rudeness, he turned towards her as well and called out to her befuddled face, "You. Woman. You said that you're still connected with Kurama, right? Maybe by somehow reactivating that kiss-induced link of yours, I can get into that damn portal that the kitsune is in. Go to it."

"Maybe I should give you your own Kiss of Death too, Hiei-chan!" came Botan's saccharine-sweet venom as large, angry veins that would've made even the Younger Toguro proud popped all over her forehead. Luckily, her boss reeled her vexation in at the last minute with a simple entreaty of, "At this point, Hiei's our only hope in rescuing Kurama from... whatever it is that he's planning to do. Please cooperate with him for the time being, Botan; for Kurama's sake as well as mine."

Botan gave one look at the fire demon identified as Jaganshi Hiei before turning her nose up at him, faintly grumbling, "You're as cheerful and easy-to-please as usual, short stuff," before recanting loudly, "Yes, I'll see what I can do, Koenma-sama! I'll do anything to help Mister Fire Demon Extraordinaire with the Hair Most Indestructible over here! Anything at all!" as she felt the intensity of the childlike man's glare even from behind her.

The ferry-girl closed her eyes and started to concentrate the remnants of her energy, the wisps of reiki swirling about her exhausted form as a deep calmness seeped into the edges of her chaotic mind. Even when she was still a novice shinigami, she'd already learned everything there was to know about proper ki-manipulation, teaching her body to constantly recharge itself with spirit energy in short order.

Those who knew Botan already had a rough idea of how she 'ticked', but contrary to their beliefs, her high-spirited persona was a little more than just salad dressing to her character; her ebullience and liveliness was the very things that allowed her to tap into her inner reserves and find her bond with Kurama again, her tiredness notwithstanding. It was her hidden strength-the power of her 'genki'-the very antithesis of Munashii's power.

She thought of the redhead, and reminded herself what it was that attracted him to her in the first place-the thing about his personality that prompted her to embarrassingly confess her infatuation and give him a Kiss of Death to, ironically enough, save his life.

She thought of his kindness, his ruthlessness, his conflicts of interests as both a youko and a human, and the fact that it was his very own mercy that compelled him to create an elaborate plan to end his life once and for all. From there, she felt the pull of Kurama's bond, and embraced it, welcomed it.

After a fleeting pause whilst glancing at Botan's deep meditation session, Hiei demanded to Koenma, "So I was right, wasn't I? Kurama is being controlled by the demon, isn't he?" as he impatiently tapped on his foot.

"Um, you should know better than that, Hiei. Tetsuma Yoshitaka is no mere demon, but a Class-S human born during the Sengoku period; a one-in-every-hundred-years talent, just like Sensui," Koenma mildly berated the youkai; he didn't feel like reminding the ill-mannered demon that he was still the next-in-line ruler of the Spirit World, especially after the humiliating 'defeat' Kurama just handed him. That was what happened when one tried to mix personal business with Spirit World politics. The Reikai Hunter himself would attest to that.

Hiei grunted. "Whatever. Spare me the details, Koenma. Does it matter if he's a demon or a human? He's still the bastard responsible for everything that's happened to us so far. That's all I need to know about him."

Koenma felt the his head throb with cross-hair veins as he dealt with the youkai's impudence, but he restrained his annoyance nonetheless. There was no need to act hypocritical about his advice to Botan; after all, he was a man of his word, unlike his father.

"I don't know about that. Whether Tetsuma-san was working for my father or Kurama, a puppet will always be a puppet. Even from the very beginning, he didn't even have enough willpower to take control of his own abilities, which cost him his life and the life of his loved ones."

* * *

_Thirty minutes before Kurama's death scene..._

Kuronue smiled at Kurama with approval and resolute purpose, much to the latter's surprise. "Your will be done, Kurama. Your will be done." From there, bedlam erupted in the form of metal chains and scythes that seemed to come nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

The Dark Raven flung his new and improved Kusarigama-like weapon and it instantaneously multiplied into many versions of itself, effectively demonstrating the transience of physics in a world that was shaped by the strength of the believing heart.

The rain of chain and blades that destroyed the filament separating the Spirit World from the Dream World all emerged from Kuronue's lone weapon by turning the afterimages it produced into tangible duplicates that spread themselves around the cavernous well like a chain-link spider web of sorts.

At the same time, one of those multiple Kusarigama-clones wrapped itself around Kurama's body and brought him into the middle of the spring, where the pandemonium of movement caused the half-youko to be tangled in a whirlpool of flaming water and crucified unto a combination of bamboo and steel.

"So this is the only possible way for you to die with meaning. Any other half-hearted suicide method will result in the senseless loss of Matsui Asuka's precious soul-which would be such a shame, especially after all the effort you've put into nurturing and preserving her personality in your everyday life," Kuronue assessed casually as he tightrope-walked onto the center of his elaborate steel net whilst idly whirling his chained scythe around.

Indeed, only a strike done with the sheer force of unbendable will, faith, and resolve could possibly restore the tides of fate to its proper order. "Now! This is it, Kurama! Now is the time to choose or forever hold your peace!"

"I've already made my choice as soon as Taka-kun reminded me of who I've become and what I really wanted to do with this borrowed life. Go ahead. Do your worst; let me repay that debt I owed you so many centuries ago," Kurama replied with certainty and finality.

Kuronue chuckled. "You're quite a piece of work, Kurama. I never called for your blood even as I turned into a nomadic poltergeist, because my death was my own fault. Contrary to what those bastards from Meikai wanted you to believe, you never owed me your life. What I did _want_ from you was to be your sorrow, anguish, regret, and ecstasy. In short, your everything. Allow me that wish, and we'll call things even."

"Fine. Give me everything you've got, Kuronue. Let me have it," Kurama whispered as he braced himself for the inevitable, his bound arms outstretched, his eyes closed yet expectant.

"Your will be done, then." The Raven whisked through the bamboo and iron net faster than the speed of thought, intending to decapitate the redhead with one powerful and willful strike.

The world of miracles and determination grew quiet for a little bit; the calm before. The split second of eternity afterwards passed as a four-feet-high, spiky-haired anomaly burst forth into the fore.

The familiar silhouette from above accelerated his descent, scaling down the scythe-carved walls with his nimble, booted feet as he took off his cloak and unsheathed his sword in dramatic fashion. But to his surprise, Kuronue suddenly turned towards his direction and smirked a knowing grin.

Unfortunately for Kuronue, anticipating an attack beforehand and actually countering it were two very different things. He was barely able to evade seventeen sword strikes that hit him nigh-simultaneously within the span of a full second, the newcomer's sharp blade missing him by mere hairbreadths.

"...You must be the infamous Jaganshi Hiei! Munashii has told me... well, _ shown_ me... everything about you. Sorry about him calling you a koorime; he just didn't know any better."

Hiei stared at Kuronue in open disbelief as he continued his assault with an unhesitant thrust. In response, the Black Raven sidestepped the attack preemptively and took advantage of the fire demon's compromised momentum to catch him flatfooted.

"Alas, the novelty of people suddenly ambushing Kurama in order to stop his 'insane' death scene from happening had worn off long ago. As is, it's just a bit annoying," the taller youkai divulged before covering the smaller demon's sight with his blackbird wings and attempting to kick him on the groin.

Auspiciously, their difference in size caused Hiei to instead receive Kuronue's roundhouse low blow on the chest, allowing the former a shorter recovery time before attacking anew. The fire demon reassessed the situation as he jumped from wall-to-wall; it looked like his plans to use the element of surprise backfired on him, but he didn't have enough time to be shocked about it. That was fine by him-Yusuke wasn't the only one who could make up on-the-fly tactics.

"You're a persistent little demon, aren't you? To think, you were able to defeat the Reikai Hunter himself by sheer force of will-cutting something that cannot be cut and killing someone that cannot be killed. Come, let's engage in a fervent duel for the sake of Kurama's death scene!" Kuronue challenged just short of an "En Guarde!" declaration as his designated opponent gave him a bewildered 'What the hell are you on?' type of stare.

"...Yeah. Let's do that. Or I can grow a brain and do this instead," Kuronue recanted, playfully shrugging at Hiei as he, without looking, looped and aimed his sickle at Kurama's head, intending to finish the execution ritual that the jaganshi so rudely interrupted.

Hiei was taken so out of the loop by Kuronue's actions that he barely had enough time to register the deception and deflect the weapon, causing his calve muscles to cramp up at the sudden exertion. "You lying bastard! What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, did you expect me to actually go fight you in a long and contrived battle when the only reason I was brought back from the dead was to _kill_ Kurama? Then I apologize, 'koorime'; I'm not as stupid as you think I am," Kuronue casually needled as he made several more scythes materialize in every possible angle and path, compounding the current state of Hiei's leg health.

"Hey, Kurama! Isn't it adorable how your little friend trusts each and every last thing his _opponent_ tells him? If he'd fought your youko self before he became suicidal, he'd know better: there is no honor among thieves, and idealism can kill. It's either he's fought some really stupid enemies, or...!"

From there, the Dark Raven was able to witness firsthand the reason why Hiei wasn't particularly experienced in regards to underhanded combat tactics using wordplay: It was because most of his opponents were too busy dying to muster a decent repartee.

Impressively, Hiei was able to halt all of the approaching moon scythes without moving his strained legs any further by virtue of a clean, quick-draw sweep of his sword over the metal links themselves. He then grit his teeth resolutely as he sheathed his weapon.

Kurama barely even winced as one of Kuronue's broken scythes missed his neck by mere inches, drawing blood. To Hiei's growing bemusement, the half-youko happily chuckled at his two former partners' blood-and-guts duel, stating, "Hiei, meet Kuronue. Kuronue, Hiei."

Both combatants crossed the space that separated them in heartbeats, and Hiei's katana flew from its sheath, splitting both the air and the time it normally took to complete its arc with its sharp edge. He struck nothing but steel, however, the sheer volume of Kuronue's chains and sickles halting his momentum.

The Black Raven wasn't quite finished, however. He spun away from the impact, using the force of the meeting of their blades to augment his spin, and lashed out with another inexplicable crescent duplicate that came slashing from his left hand.

Hiei twisted aside and skidded away on one of the metal web's supporting links, ending up right beside his redheaded target, but Kuronue's curved blade still left a cut in the fire demon's vest and a scrape on the flesh beneath. If he'd been a hair slower, the Black Raven might have outright gutted him, revealing his rope-like ghostly insides for all to see; either that, or ichor-filled ectoplasm.

"Well now. You were able to avoid getting skewered, huh? Fascinating," Kuronue remarked with genuine surprise, not quite sure if Hiei realized the gravity of his actions. 'Damn fire demon. The speech I gave about dueling was just a feint so that I can execute Kurama immediately, but the shrimp still managed to force me to fight anyway. He was even able to get Kurama within his reach... not that it's going to do him much good, but he's not bad for a demon that's only a little younger than Kurama's human age.'

"I will not allow you to restrain Kurama any longer," Hiei swore as he allowed his legs to at last recover from their strenuous exertions.

"What, would you rather that you were restrained? How kinky," Kuronue mockingly rejoined as he calmly walked towards Hiei and threw his whirling crescent blades at him with gleeful abandon. The jaganshi's parries merely clanged hard on the surprisingly tougher chain-links; the Raven's weapon apparently evolved and adapted to its enemy as the fight wore on.

"Degenerate pervert," Hiei groused.

"What's the matter, shorty? Angry? Jealous? Unsure of your masculinity?" Kuronue purred, discovering yet another one of Hiei's numerous buttons for him to push. "Wasn't Kurama's kiss enough for you?"

Hiei irises became pinpoints of fury, but he quickly calmed himself down by finally putting into words what it was about Kuronue that bothered him since the start of their fight-aside from the bondage gear and tattered hat. "...So are you Karasu's bastard brother or what?"

With a shark-like grin and flaming eyes, Kuronue hissed at Hiei through grit teeth, "O-ho! Is that sarcasm I hear? This from a strange little man who'd sooner practice honor before reason? You really are naive and immature, aren't you?"

Like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, Hiei refused to address Kuronue's appraisal as he muttered loud enough for Kurama to hear, "I liked him better when he was still a butt-ugly Meikai doppelganger that used mist and hypnotism to kill his victims. Are you sure he's not a fake, kitsune? He may simply be another Nether World shape-shifter, for all you know."

'Ah, now he said it.' If Kurama could somehow find a way to palm his face, he would've done so right then and there, but strangely enough, he instead felt something other than embarrassment begin to take root in his heart. It was a funny feeling that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Then, to the Raven's growing annoyance, Hiei resumed his superficial rant instead of, say, trying to release Kurama from his binds and taking him as far away from that pocket dimension as possible. "Think about it for a minute, kitsune. Kuronue just admitted to lying in front of your face and claims that honor is for fools. I know about your past and your own penchant for deception during that time, but tricking you using your recent affinity for mercifulness isn't an unprecedented event. Most of your enemies have used your compassion against you in one way or another; can you really risk trusting someone that acknowledges himself as untrustworthy?"

Kuronue was just about to offer a crisp retort and a mouthful of blades to Hiei's accusations when he espied a flash of uncertainty in Kurama's eyes. For some reason, Hiei's last crop of words sounded less like frivolous banter and more like a reasonable contention to the redhead's ears.

The annoying little jaganshi was able to dig up the overwhelmingly harsh feelings of betrayal and guilt that hounded Kurama in his momentous fight with the fake Kuronue during Meikai's invasion of the Human World; emotions strong enough to make him reconsider for an instant, "Is this really Kuronue? How can I be sure?"

Something as simple as Kuronue throwing his pendant away was able to convince Kurama that something was amiss with the _first_ Kuronue he'd met after many centuries, so this event wasn't beyond the realm of possibility.

It was just a brief bout of doubt-something trivial, even laughable, compared to the unbendable willpower Kurama had displayed during his epic wars against Hiei, the youko, and Munashii-but it was more than enough time for the ridiculously fast Hiei to take advantage of.

In a blink of an eye, Hiei cut through Kurama's bonds without impediment, then grabbed the discombobulated redhead with his free arm.

'Dammit, Kurama...!' Kuronue mentally cursed as he desperately scrambled to drown Hiei in a raging stream of chains and crescent scythes, but he was suddenly missing a hundred or so of his weapons to do so. Instead, his weapon reverted to its original, stringed version, which Hiei effortlessly evaded and cleaved apart in one swift movement.

'Oh, Kurama. You're not going to betray me for real this time, are you?' Kuronue dully reflected as he knelt down his web of metal in defeat, then felt the whole contraption snap and break like so many dry wafers as a strange case of instantaneous oxidation destroyed the chains. The bird demon went under with an unceremonious splash soon afterwards.

Meanwhile, the cavern that the Raven had previously carved beneath the false Eden had begun to flood with water from the Sanzu River, the surrounding walls collapsing as the unseen force that kept them erect-Kurama's resolve, it would seem-gradually vanished.

* * *

_Fifty minutes earlier, on the decimated grounds of the false Eden... _

Hiei further admonished Koenma's insistence that Yoshitaka Tetsuma wasn't responsible for Kurama's mental breakdown, stating, "Doesn't Kurama's claims of planning everything from the start strike you as a bit hard to believe? If everything was happening according to his grand plan, then there's nothing in his planning that slightly even resembles a plan.

"The thing with the pendant and Kuronue's sudden appearance... that was obviously Munashii's doing! It's more likely that Munashii hypnotized Kurama into thinking that he planned everything, had him plod through the Dream World to say his stupid good-byes, and then let him eventually sacrifice his life in order to resurrect some village girl he never even met!"

Koenma took Hiei's impassioned words to heart, absently nodding to himself. "You have a point, Hiei. But keep in mind that conflicting interests and unintended events can and will occur with any plan. Also, there's no denying Kurama's current inexorable resolve to see this quest through, whether Munashii gained it through brainwashing or voluntary willingness. When it comes to circumstances like this, we have no choice but to start with the ridiculous and go from there.

"It should be painfully clear to you by now that Kurama is the one by and large responsible for this whole Matsui Asuka debacle... either that or he took responsibility for it at the very least. And you made one slight mistake in your deduction: Kurama has already 'met' Matsui Asuka, and has fallen madly in love with her. It all ties in with Munashii's will becoming Kurama's will and vice-versa."

Hiei growled dismissively at Koenma's suggestion. "Not this nonsense again. We don't have time to indulge in wild theories about misplaced and deluded romance. Besides which, it makes no sense whatsoever. What does this supposed 'love' Kurama has for some stranger have to do with anything, anyway?"

"To quite be frank, everything," Koenma answered glibly. "You were able to watch Kurama as he went about his gratuitously long quest in the Dream World, right? Well, whether or not you believe that he has truly 'fallen in love' with Matsui Asuka, you must have realized by now that it's his _obsession_ with her that drove him to go against the odds and say his good-byes to friends and enemies alike, regardless of the consequences or circumstances. In a world of pure imagination and wish fulfillment... where anything could be made, anything could happen, and everything was real... the person who wants and believes in something the most will prevail."

Hiei looked down on the pock-riddled ground in quiet contemplation. He _had_ seen Kurama in action, and the mere fact that the redhead could _afford_ to go through basically uncalled-for farewells to most everyone he knew and still furthered his suicidal agenda regardless was proof enough of the power of his convictions. It didn't make a lick of sense to the jaganshi, but Kurama was undeniably offering his soul for Asuka Matsui the same way he would risk his life for any of his comrades and family, especially his mother.

Mistaking Hiei's rumination for uncertainty, Koenma prodded on. "Do you understand, Hiei? The strength of the spirit doesn't have anything to do with physical strength, but with 'emotion'. What's inside your heart becomes the source from which all your power wells. Kurama has enough of that power to even overwhelm his S-Class superior, Youko Kurama, in not one, but two duels to the death. Think about that things for a second before rushing headfirst at the final stages of Kurama's death scene. As far as his determination over Matsui Asuka's rebirth is concerned, Kurama is unquestionably the master of that realm."

Met with further silence, something important then occurred to Koenma. "Speaking of which, what happened to you during your fight with Munashii? Last I checked in the Spirit World's Monitor, you were down for the count, with the shadow man doing some sort of kamikaze attack on you at the last minute. I'm rather surprised you made it here in the _at all._ You're not forcing your soul to fight on even after your body has been battered to a pulp, are you?"

Unnoticed by the Spirit World Administrator, Hiei reflexively favored his side, straining inwardly. He then loudly grumbled to Koenma, "Enough of this. What's important is that we have one last shot at saving Kurama, and we should make this one count. You can serve as better help to this mission by telling me something of real use; I have no interest in the fox's reasons for doing this. What I'm more interested in is how I can stop him. For example, how was he able to gain full access to the Dream World? Did he have some ulterior motive in involving those humans in his death scene? I want that sort of information."

Koenma closed his eyes, sighed, and reassessed the wealth of data in his head accordingly. The young god only hoped that the rambunctious youkai was able to get it through his thick skull that the only _true_ way of stopping Kurama was to make him want to be stopped; nothing more, nothing less. "Listen carefully, then. This is what Kurama essentially planned during his trek in the Dream World. As you know, a ghost can easily pass through the Dream World at will..."

* * *

To be Continued...

Next: Kurama's death scene.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Sa muling pagkikita!  
Abdiel

* * *

_Shonen Outtakes, Take One..._

"Do you still have any trouble with my explanation?" Kurama queried once he finished his story and explained what it meant, the soft rustle of the bamboo leaves and the quiet crackle of the will o' the wisps dancing on the surface of the bottomless spring the only other sounds breaking the thick blanket of silence.

After a short pause, Kuronue solemnly shook his head. "No. I've heard all that I wanted to hear."

Kurama braced himself for Kuronue's final verdict, warily inquiring, "So what's your decision? Are you going to help me fulfill my one last wish, or are you going to get in the way of it?"

Kuronue smiled at Kurama with resolute purpose, much to the latter's surprise. "You've gone completely batshit insane. What the hell does that bedtime story have to do with anything, you idiot? Good-bye." And so the Black Raven swung back up to the surface of the spring and left Kurama to his own devices. Afterwards, there was much crying and gnashing of teeth on the half-youko's part.


	24. Chapter 23: Revolution 3

_"When one is blinded by that which he seeks, it is hard for him to see the lines in between."  
_ (Unknown)

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic  
by Chester Castañeda

Will Asuka Matsui be reborn as Minamino Shuichi? Not if _he_ can help it.

Disclaimer: Yuyu Hakusho is the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. This fic therefore also belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Credit for the excerpts goes to the English-translated "Le Peti't Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupery.

* * *

** Chapter 23: Revolution (Part 3)**

* * *

_Twenty-five minutes before Kurama's death scene..._

Hiei already knew what Koenma was trying desperately to tell him. What he couldn't wrap his head around was the idea that Kurama would subject himself to Munashii's machinations under his own free will. Aside from that, the jaganshi knew enough of the methods to Kurama's madness to stop the redhead from fulfilling his nebulous and contradictory gambit.

In a capricious world where the person with the strongest willpower would triumph, only one wish could possibly prevail in a given situation. There was more than one way to skin a cat, and Hiei had found an appropriate loophole to counteract the redhead's overwhelming determination.

Basically, by feeding the seeds of doubt into Kurama's heart, Hiei should be able to free his comrade from Munashii's Lotus Eater World and help him reclaim his sanity, breaking down his resolve and showing him the ridiculousness of his beliefs.

Little did Hiei know that Kurama's resolve was far deeper, meaningful, and persistent than he gave him credit for. So, at the apex of the their jump towards the egress, the half-youko dislodged himself from the smaller youkai's grip with a firm and resolute push. It took Hiei a few seconds to realize what Kurama had just done. Glaring daggers of shock, bafflement, and furiousness at the redhead, he currently had no words at the tip of his tongue that he hadn't said before.

"What the hell are you trying to do? Have you completely lost your mind?" Hiei screamed anyway, reiterating his earliest sentiments over Kurama's death scene. "Wake up already! You don't care about the life of some stillborn you've never met! You probably didn't even know she existed until years later, when Munashii finally appeared! Rebirth this, Asuka that; it's enough to make me vomit! I know beneath your vapid human exterior and delusions of martyrdom, you're still in there, Kurama! Stop this nonsense and listen to reason!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, Hiei? I don't need saving. Taka-kun didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to do. Leave me be," Kurama sternly reprimanded Hiei as he descended back from whence he came, the flood from the waters of the River Styx receding as he fell. Hiei followed suit, streaking across the pit like a black-clad bullet as he attempted to grab Kurama before he hit the furious whirlpool below.

Their descent eventually became a battle of wills. If Kurama had a martyr-like bent to recklessly sacrifice his life as he saw fit, then Hiei was a mulishly stubborn demon that simply didn't know when to give up. For the both of them, no price was too great to pay for success, up to and including their own lives. They'd do whatever they had to do and never surrender. Ever. Under any circumstances. No matter what.

Whatever other characteristics they might have, their persistence always stood out. They'd never consider that they might be better off by letting go. Giving up just wasn't in their nature, which was probably the reason why they made such great partners with the likes of Yusuke "Willpower Incarnate" Urameshi and Kazuma "Perseverance Personified" Kuwabara.

In any case, Kurama made the first move, imposing his formidable resolve with two simple words: "Hydra Bamboo."

Hiei saw the forest of sharpened, demonic bamboo spears grow and jut out all around him, making him instinctively backpedal to the nearest wall in order to avoid getting skewered like a pig or die like that hideous Meikai Lord that pretended to be Kuronue once upon a time.

Speaking of which, the allegedly real Kuronue himself was brought back to the surface of the bottomless pool care of one of the endlessly stretching bamboo, his eyes fluttering and his mouth sputtering as he came to.

Subsequently, the will o' the wisp flames just above the roiling waters of the cavern gathered around Kurama like a shroud of sparkling reiki. They then helped create a physical manifestation of the redhead's own immovable resolve-in particular, that of a young, scrawny, bright-red, green-eyed Fire Fox Spirit with a lone bushy tail and a halo of green light surrounding it, whose youthful appearance and smaller stature was in direct contrast to the imposing, centuries-old Silver Fox whom Kurama forced to fade away not once, but twice over.

Meanwhile, in the corner of Hiei's eye, something in the depths of the small swamp breathed deeply, and a strange phantom hovered between the bamboo before disappearing into Kurama's holy light. Two out of three of the jaganshi's eyes widened as the dark figure finally took shape, coalescing seamlessly with Kurama's Fire-Fox-shaped determination. It was a feminine shape...

The fetal-positioned form of a red-haired, teenage girl flared with a supernaturally jade light. She shone like a star and burned like a supernova. She, Hiei presumed, was Kurama's personal Holy Grail. The Kusanagi Sword, the Yata Mirror, and the Magatama Orb of Yasaka were nothing compared to this one human life drowned by the strong waves of fate, predestination, and serendipity.

She was Asuka Matsui; a normal, unassuming peasant girl who had the tragic misfortune of being involved with two people who had the ability to defy and change destiny itself.

Once Kurama's direct manifestation of Asuka's ghost was complete, he gently landed feet-first on a nest of bamboo leaves and twigs, squeezing his arm and leaning back wistfully against the largest pole from which all the hidden spring's bamboo grew from.

Kurama's head felt tight and hollow with pain while his already fuzzy thoughts became near incoherent after all the effort he exerted in extracting Asuka Matsui's-no, _Asuka's_ shattered soul from the depths of his own broken spirit, but one thought managed to penetrate the haze: he needed one last death strike filled with the driving force of purest resolve to fulfill his female counterpart's rebirth. Nothing less than that would satisfy the accidental bad karma Asuka suffered in the hands of her childhood friend, Yoshitaka.

'We're almost there, Taka-kun. One more push, and Asuka-san will be home free,' Kurama thought as he slumped down to the floor of the raft-like Hydra Bamboo Islet, his growing exhaustion getting the better of him at long last. The need of one, true death strike was the reason why Hiei had to be there during Kurama's final moments-the fire demon's immovable will should be enough to prompt Kuronue to unleash his own irresistible strength of mind, because nothing less than that could ever overcome the jaganshi's spirit.

...Not that Kurama foresaw Botan helping Hiei access Kuronue's pocket dimension through her Kiss of Death; to precisely predict such random circumstances was beyond his ken. Instead, he instinctively knew deep in his heart that Hiei was going make himself a significant factor to his death scene, whether the half-youko wanted to or not. If that was the case, then why not use the fire demon's enthusiasm to his advantage?

Desperately, Hiei reached for Kurama's fallen form, passing through the etherealness of Asuka's ghost like it were a phantom formed by mist, but he was soon stopped by the double-helix chains of Kuronue's ever-evolving chain-blade, the reinforced bonds arresting his movement in an eye blink.

"You had me worried for a second there, Kurama," Kuronue admitted to his kneeling and tired 'prisoner' as he un-clung his clothes from the bamboo staff that saved his second chance at life a few moments ago. "You hurt my feelings, Kurama. I thought that you trusted that stubborn yet clueless outcast midget more than you did little old me, who understands the intricacies of your complex plan. At any rate, thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll make sure to live up to your expectations this time around."

His eyes closed, Kurama gave the Raven a wan smile. "Give him hell, Kuronue; Heaven and Hell."

"Your will shall be done, old friend," Kuronue confirmed as he pricked his thumb on the sharp end of his blade then pressed it against the jewel encrusted on the center of his pendant, making the ruby shine brighter and redder than ever before. From there, the supposed power of 'emotion' buried deep within the precious artifact was finally released to the fore.

All the feelings of guilt, sadness, betrayal, fear, and loss swirling inside the centuries-old trinket transformed into a crimson maelstrom that gave the Dark Raven access to limitless power-power to bring together what the Reikai Hunter and the Silver Fox tore asunder. The power to change destiny... or, in this case, to restore it.

"Kurama, you ASSHOLE!" Hiei screamed in rage as he struggled against his bonds. The links, however, were stronger than his resolve, tied tightly and firmly around his compact body, barely leaving him enough room to breathe. His efforts only left him gasping and exhausted, and not a single inch closer to freeing himself.

Not to be deterred, he twisted and craned his neck, trying to slip out of his tight predicament like some sort of spiky-haired snake. But he soon found to his dismay that no matter how he strained, he couldn't contort his body enough to escape his bonds.

Once Kuronue completely regained his composure, he told the struggling Hiei, "You're actually quite wrong about Karasu and me, jaganshi. I'm the original. It's that psychotic Crow character who's the Kuronue-wannabe. I've existed long before that demon was but mere hell spawn making little demon firecrackers for his own sick amusement. As such, let me show you how real I really am."

With one tug, all the 'air' inside Hiei's body instantaneously escaped from his figurative lungs, making him gasp in agony. And, while it was true that ghosts had no need of things such as food, oxygen, and regular excretion of toxins and bodily waste products, it was actually the destiny-changing energy contained within Kuronue's chains that was forcing the fire demon to expel precious, live-giving youki out of his astral form, suffocating him in the process.

As Hiei struggled uselessly, a bit of rationality began to seep through the painful miasma in his head. Slowly, the grim reality of his situation penetrated his mind, and his pain dissolved away under an onslaught of achingly familiar fury. He, like the rest of his inner circle of Spirit Detective cohorts including Kurama, didn't like the idea of being forced into anything, whether it was through tragic fate or the manipulations of others. They all worked best when their backs were against the wall and the inevitable was about to take place.

So-disregarding the fact that it was Munashii's void instead of actual psychic ability that forced Hiei's spirit out of his body during their intense bout-the jaganshi risked it all anyway and let his evil eye half-open, releasing red flames from his hands that allowed him to melt his bonds and continue his attack against Kuronue anew.

"As I expected, you're too reckless. Still, you're a lot more dangerous than I thought. If there's anybody who can defy all reason and go beyond the impossible through immovable resolve, then it's you, jaganshi. You and Kurama make quite the pair, what with your matching streaks of stubbornness and all," Kuronue evaluated half-jokingly as his eyes deftly followed Hiei's flickering movements, blocking Hiei's Rengoku-Shou punches from time to time with his indefinite supply of metal links and curved blades.

'...And what the hell do you mean by that?' Hiei brooded sourly as he did several calculated somersault feints to confuse Kuronue, but none of them worked as intended; Kurama's latest puppet wasn't even fazed. It was like the damn Munashii replacement was able to read his movements and intentions or something. Hiei sneered. He was no closer to the half-youko than when he first unceremoniously appeared, and Kuronue knew it.

Hiei knew that it was time to unload the big guns. "Jaou-Ensatsu-KEN!" There was a shower of hellfire and sparks as whirling blades fought against flames of darkness, but Hiei had learned his lesson from their earlier exchange and didn't give Kuronue the angle and leverage he needed to do a point-blank entanglement with his never-ending supply of ammunition.

The Black Raven was unbelievably quick with redirecting his scythes, however. Hiei struck innumerable times with his flaming sword in rapid succession, hoping to draw Kuronue off-guard, but the other demon brushed them aside just as quickly. Hiei had to leap away to avoid exposing himself to a host of revolving blades that cut through bamboo, water, and rock alike.

Kuronue countered with an attack of his own, trying to prevent Hiei from regaining his footing, but the fire demon was light on his feet, and unbalancing him was all but impossible. Hiei tried to use that to his advantage, luring the black-clad fighter in with a fake opening, but as usual, Kuronue didn't bite.

"Like I was saying to Kurama here, the only way he could die a momentous suicide is to get struck with a blow fueled by the purest and strongest resolve. What's interesting is that you yourself have the capability of giving him his meaningful death, jaganshi. It's just too bad for you that Kurama chose me to become his executioner, and I have no intention of relinquishing such an honor," Kuronue conversationally engaged Hiei as he calmly avoided a feint-turned-strike-at-the-last-second attack, the burning blade harmlessly brushing through his hair like a toothless comb, not so much as singing a single strand.

"Honor? Don't make me laugh. Didn't you just say there's no honor among thieves? Have you become as insane as Kurama had after hearing some bedtime story told to you in a pretentious manner? There's not much honor in your delusions, is there? It's obvious that the both of you are being used by the shadow man; more importantly, you're spewing out nonsense. Get out of my way," Hiei gravely riposted as he batted an oncoming strike and rapidly hurtled himself towards his true quarry, the genuflecting Kurama.

...Except the image of him effortlessly hitting the scythe blinked into the scythe snaking out of his blade's way and stabbing him on the chest, as though his eyes were deceiving him. 'What the hell just happened?'

Hiei tried again, heedlessly plucking out the blade stuck in his sternum and attempting to block another flying scythe and keep it from hitting him on the head, but the same anomaly happened, with the crescent blade unerringly homing in on his half-open jagan, which seriously impeded his ability to release demon energy.

As a result, the black fire of his Jaou-En-Satsu-Ken was immediately snuffed out as his regular eyes' vision started to blur. But he would not stand down. Using his blinding speed, he managed to escape Kuronue's wrath altogether by instantly teleporting from behind and backstabbing him.

In a blink of his bloodshot and blinded third eye, Hiei suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a baker's dozen scalpel-shaped throwing blades, which literally turned him into a youkai pincushion or sorts.

"Is there something wrong, jaganshi?" came Kuronue's mocking drawl as he painfully pulled the circular sickles out Hiei's body, drawing a literal bucket-full of ghostly blood. "Sorry to say, but I've already played this fight in my head a million times, from every angle. I know every move you'll make and how to counter it. I defy all probability; no matter how fast you are or how many techniques you have, I'll still know how to kill you. You've already lost, you just don't know it yet."

It was a bit beyond Hiei's comprehension, but because of his own determination and Kurama's blessing, Kuronue had managed to gain the ability to manipulate destiny by making his scythe cover all possibilities of attack at once and having these "alternate universes" superimposed upon each other, thus enabling him to manipulate the fight's cloud of potential to his favor.

Of course, although Kuronue could fight using the best-of-all-possible-worlds manner, Hiei's quickness and resolve made it mandatory for him to select all sorts of alternatives and display the multiverses acting as one universe, lest the fire demon overcame his absolute prediction of events and toppled his ability to manipulate probability.

The fact that he hadn't quite killed or even slowed the jaganshi down had been bothering him for quite sometime, actually; but it was just a matter of time anyway. He'd make Kurama proud of him soon enough.

"Don't brag prematurely. I can count on one hand the number of people that lived through a battle with me, and those who did are far beyond your level of power. That's five out of hundreds, even thousands. Munashii himself died after dueling with me. Don't you think that it may not be a bright idea to fight me after all?" Hiei proudly countered, despite the fact that his injuries were quickly taking their toll on his very soul.

Kurama wanted to cry out to Hiei to stop fighting, to give up delaying the inevitable, and to return to reality before he suffered a fate that was literally worse than death. The wounds of the soul were far more difficult to heal than the wounds of the body; the fire demon could risk ending up just like Asuka Matsui at this rate, his spirit broken and in limbo for all of eternity.

"That's enough, Hiei. You've served your purpose. Kuronue is now strong enough to give me the death that could restore Asuka-san's fate to its rightful flow." Hiei didn't respond. Kurama reiterated, "I beg you. So far in my quest, no one involved with it got seriously hurt. There had been some close calls, but I don't want you to become this mission's first collateral damage."

"Maybe I deserve to get seriously hurt? Dying was never a concern of mine, kitsune," Hiei spat back as he abruptly went on the offensive, but Kuronue's conclusive calculations neutralized the fire demon's "surprise" attacks before they even happened.

"Then don't concern yourself with my death either," Kurama retorted breathlessly, adding, "Destiny is unstoppable. Everyone has to give in. So give up-let life win."

Sardonically smirking, Hiei recited, "May those that accept their fate be granted happiness; may those who defy it be granted glory."

"Pretty words, jaganshi. But you still can't win," Kuronue chimed in as he systemically ripped apart the flittering Hiei with a inundation of scythes that traveled in all lengths and directions.

In contrast to Hiei's awkward attempts to switch things up, there was never a single instant between when Kuronue was on attack and when he was on defense. Even the best fighters in the Demon World had a brief moment when they switched from defense to offense that they were vulnerable; it was one of the disadvantages of fighting from a defensive style. Yet because of his absolute prediction, quantum-powered scythe, and probability manipulation, Kuronue's form and style were absolutely perfect.

With a tone reminiscent of the Reikai Hunter himself, Kuronue declared, "Give up. You've failed once, you've failed twice, and you'll fail again and again. Just lie down and die. You're weak. You're scared. Give up now. Give up and let Kurama be."

"I..." Hiei shook off his ghost's mounting damage, crossed blades with Kuronue, drove him back, and attacked with a knee aimed at the Raven's midsection while their blades were still locked.

Kuronue tried to use Hiei's recklessness to his advantage, but came up short for the first time. Hiei countered the offensive and Kuronue was suddenly caught off-balanced as well. In response, Kuronue drove in and trapped Hiei's sword with his own hemispherical blades. "Give up, damn you."

"I don't know how."

A look of naked surprise painted Kuronue's face as he twirled his blades to meet Hiei's attack. His defense melted into offense almost instantly, but Hiei knew that he had an opening for a brief moment, and how to take advantage of it.

Though the long gash on the blackbird demon's thigh was nothing compared to the injuries Hiei received, this was still the first significant strike that the jaganshi had landed. Kuronue's solid defense was finally breaking down at long last.

In addition to the burst of Hiei's heroic resolve that enabled him to further surpass his speed limits to new heights, he realized too that Kuronue was never quite able to kill him even with his nigh-omnipotent gifts of foresight and exploitation of possibilities.

In normal circumstances, Hiei was simply too fast and too furious for Kuronue to keep up with-in other words, it was Kuronue's natural limitations that kept him from using his unnatural powers to finish off Hiei completely.

Kuronue expected Hiei to press his advantage, which he did, but the Dark Raven came forward to meet him halfway, hoping to catch him before he was ready for the strike. He did, but Hiei still blocked Kuronue's assault with his sword's long handle and pushed his flabbergasted opponent aside.

Finally regaining a bit of his well-earned arrogance in the face of the utter despair he felt from fighting the rejuvenated Kuronue and never, even once, landing a clean hit, Hiei mentioned to Kurama, "Hey fox. Do you remember what I said before, after you killed the fake Kuronue? There is no one who doesn't have scars in his heart. If there were someone like that, then he would be a shallow bastard."

Kurama raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh, is that what you said? My memory must be failing me then, because I remembered it differently. In fact, I even told roughly the same quote to Kuronue when he himself was still uncertain about my death scene." The half-youko also wanted to add that Hiei's confession was one of the few times he'd ever heard him talk so openly and candidly about anything, but something stopped him. A premonition of a painful rebuttal, perhaps?

Insulted that Hiei could afford to calmly converse with Kurama in the middle of their battle, Kuronue repeated the multidirectional assault he'd accomplished beforehand, filling the whole watery pit with his multi-world-occupying sickles until they became a miniature version of the downpour of steel that completely destroyed the garden above them earlier on.

"Well, I don't believe you're a shallow bastard. Don't sell your youko self short. He, as well as you, felt immense pain when Kuronue died. Cruel a bastard as he is, he also had scars in his heart."

Without even looking, Hiei reactivated his Jaou-Ensatsu-Ken and Rengoku-Shou concurrently, disintegrating the nearest of the unlimited deluge of metal links and scythes with frenzied strikes that served as his protective umbrella against oblivion.

In a matter of seconds, Hiei had parried at least a hundred attacks; he lost track after the first sixty or so. The blades and blaze were striking each other so quickly and so often that it sounded like a machinegun had been blasting holes on a long piece of sheet metal. That was on fire.

"You never needed to possess the reincarnated body of the shadow man's woman to develop feelings of compassion and caring for others. It's been inside you all along. Don't be such a martyr to think that you owe your feelings to that woman alone! Even a demon can feel something as insipid as love," Hiei passionately reasoned, sparing a disdainful glance at Asuka's floating ghost.

When Kuronue broke off the attack because Hiei was starting to adapt to its rhythm, he had already scored two small cuts, and was clearly surprised that he hadn't done more. A small slit in the cloth over Hiei's left forearm bore a slight but spreading red stain, and another one on his right leg was less serious but nonetheless more than just a shaving cut.

Still, without missing a beat, Hiei continued, "I don't want to say it, but I feel that I have to say it. There's nothing I hate more than seeing people who take their lives for granted."

Kurama smiled sadly at Hiei. "Then that means I'm the type of person you probably hate the most, right?"

"So was it all a lie? Were you merely lying through your teeth back then, fox?" Hiei demanded, walking directly in front of Kurama and outright ignoring Kuronue's presence.

Kurama's brows furrowed. "I don't understand. What was a lie?"

"Was it a lie what you told me and the stupid human back in the Cave of Entrance to the Makai Realm? You said, 'No matter whom, I hate missing any one of the four of us.' Were you lying back then?"

Kurama hesitated for quite a bit before answering, "No. Of course not."

"Then why do this? Why kill yourself? No matter whom, you hate missing _any one_ of the four of us, right? Remember, you're a part of that four. Therefore, you shouldn't be doing this. Can you really stand committing suicide and going back on your word, Kurama?"

Kurama reacted as if he'd just been slapped. He raised a shaky hand to his cheek as his face went red. He did not have an answer for any of Hiei's accusations.

"It's not that you won't die, but you can't die. I don't want you to die."

"Are you quite done, you silly lovebirds? Because ready or not, here I come!" Sick and tired of being neglected by both his opponent and his ex-partner-in-crime, Kuronue resentfully struck Hiei with crescent blades of indignation-his current attacks weren't as numerous or visually impressive as the flood of metal, but they were certainly far more effective, landing deeper cuts and slashes that put Hiei on the verge of having his spirit broken in half. Immediately though, Kurama's so-called savior went back for more.

Neither Hiei nor Kuronue were stupid enough to allow the other to get a direct angle on the other-they were both extremely agile and changed directions without warning every other heartbeat. They never lined themselves up so they were both coming directly at each other.

Out of at least twenty tries for each of them, they only met each others' steel once. Their feet wildly churned up sprays of water, bits of leaves and plant fiber, and loads of dirt from the cavernous well, and their changes in direction dug huge marks on the rocky crags and bamboo islets, but their weapons touched nearly nothing.

But the whole act was just Hiei tricking the frustrated Kuronue to fall for one of his feints at long last. He'd been buying himself some time to recover his strength, and the precious minutes he'd gained paid him dividends. His stinging and sore jagan eventually managed to fully open and let loose the full potential of his demonic soul's might after the trauma it suffered early on.

The effect on Hiei was instantaneous as he felt the surge of energy flow into him. His eyes opened wide and he jerked at the sudden influx of power traveling through his body. His own choleric power filled the air about him-the colors and the surging energy, the sharp, burning smell, and the tingling feeling all over his spirit as strange forces shaped him, remolding him into what he always should have been-a rambunctious demon warrior prodigy with limitless potential and the battle experience of five hundred years.

"Go ahead and try to defy probability with this, Karasu... Jaou-En-Satsu-KOKURYUHA!" Not only did Hiei intentionally call Kuronue the wrong name just to piss him off, but he also summoned the one technique that served as his all-purpose equalizer in every battlefield, whether it was the Demon World Tournament or the Logic-and-Physics-Defying Reality of the Dream World.

Kuronue tried to outrun and outgun the living and breathing embodiment of pure Demon World fire in the form of a Chinese Dragon, hitting it with each and every last incarnation of his multiple curved blades until he'd finally reproduced the complete version of his sky-shattering steel storm, dropping his surging scalpels from the portal rent from above them like a million-and-one chained anchors.

The Black Dragon Wave passed through the multitude of chain-scythes like they weren't there at all, not so much as burning but sublimating them upon contact. It was a lot like experiencing the spectacle of the fully realized destructive capabilities of two Class-S Warlords, only ten times worse and twenty times more efficient. It was moments like these that Kurama felt the stark difference between humans and demons in terms of sheer power; there really was no comparison.

Kuronue slipped off one of the cave's moister rocks and, with a scream of terror and despair, fell smack dab into the flaming maw of the Black Dragon Spirit Technique, turning into ash and dust a millisecond later. That should have been the end of that, but to Hiei's dismay, Kuronue's kusarigama weren't the only things that branched off into the complex, forked roads of potential and possibility.

Right before Hiei and Kurama's eyes, Kuronue's body split off into hundreds, even thousands, of reflections of his own. And, unlike with the boy of reflection's case, these weren't mere versions of Kuronue's distant past or imminent future.

Rather, these were all clones of the Kuronue of the present who were all real and made a variety of actions and decisions... some minutely different, while others radically out-of-the-box... just to stay alive.

The storytelling of Schrodinger's Ravens and murder of Schrodinger's Crows soon became a visual demonstration of the "Survival of the Fittest" concept, with a vast majority of the phantoms burning in Hiei's dark fire.

On the other hand, to the jaganshi's chagrin, there was always one or two of the Black Ravens who managed to consistently pick the correct path or make the right decision and avoided the Black Dragon Wave's inimitable fury altogether.

Worst of all, the surviving batch of Kuronues found ways to keep on attacking Hiei even as the Kokuryuha razed and vaporized everything in its path like the compact upsurge of energy that it was. In the end, the concept of Munashii's ability to be nowhere and everywhere at the same time was brought to the fore, making the task of finishing off Kuronue all but impossible.

"Who's the Karasu now, Hiei? More importantly, who's your daddy?" several dozen Kuronues derided in chorus as they performed an assortment of techniques that exponentially made the reach and numbers of their scalpel-scythes innumerable and immeasurable given the growing amount of limitless possibilities they occupied, attacking every single point in time and space simultaneously.

Instead of the usual flood of chains and blades, the myriad of Kuronues and chain-scythes transformed into a growing, immovable whitewall that filled the spring to the brimming with cold, metallic death. It soon became hard to distinguish were the Kuronues ended and the steel blades began.

Irresponsibly, Hiei played into Kuronue's game of escalation and raised the stakes, assaulting the Raven's spreading whitewall with eight more of his formidable Darkness Flame Dragons and turning it into a battle between irresistible forces and immovable objects. Like dominoes, like a Yin-Yang symbol, like a clash between black and white, fire and ice, stark contrasts, complete opposites, and opposing ideologies, Kuronue's gleaming light struggled against Hiei's depthless darkness, both spectrums promising death and downfall in no uncertain terms.

At first, the roaring ebony flames seemed to be winning against the critical mass of white, with Hiei mindlessly blasting through every last superimposed multiverse and eliminating all possibilities of Kuronue surviving his ultimate technique. Nevertheless, it wasn't meant to be, and even as his penultimate dark dragon was about to immolate the one surviving Kuronue, Hiei felt his chest tighten and constrict. The blackbird demon had accomplished the impossible; he'd pushed the willful Hiei beyond his limits.

The jaganshi writhed in obvious torture, casting the Kokuryuha and the rest of his youki-draining techniques aside as he felt his soul's insides ostensibly atrophy and wither despite the fact that ghosts didn't have insides to speak of. Thusly, the Black Dragon Spirit retreated like darkness at the crack of dawn a mere second before it could even make Kuronue sweat.

Hiei continued howling as his energy hemorrhaged all over the place, his ghostly body trembling and twitching as though it were having a seizure. Because he'd forced his injured self to use up his life force all at once, his soul was now on the verge of breaking apart, just like in the tragic cases of Yoshitaka Tetsuma and Asuka Matsui.

"HIEI!" Kurama concernedly cried, momentarily forgetting his quest.

The point of Munashii's sacrifice during the first day of winter became immediately obvious; the power of his Mugen Gan and the power-sapping ability of his incomparable void helped his proxy, Kuronue, win against Hiei in the war of attrition by making him fight a handicapped battle from the very start.

As was par for the course, a voice inside the forbidden child's mind announced in deadpan, 'Your time is up, koorime. Let destiny take its course.'

"You're mine, koorime! DIE!" Kuronue screamed with the same amount of shallow spite and venom Hiei used to call him 'Karasu' as he dived straight for the weakened jaganshi's inert form, his sickle raised high up his head and ready to strike.

Hiei fought against the excruciating agony with all the inner strength he could muster as he finally discerned the charging Black Raven headed towards him.

The fire youkai shut his eyes and willed his astral body to move, but his efforts were for naught. His energy was beyond drained and burned out at that point. "Dammit, no. KURAMA!"

Before Kuronue could split off into his multiverse selves and tear Hiei limb from limb, a lone sprig of Hydra Bamboo tore the necklace off of his pendant, making his ruby-encrusted treasure almost fall into the murky depths of the spring below. It took a split second for Kuronue to realize what had happened, but he was still able to divide himself up into a dozen or so reflections in order to save his pendant before it was lost to him forever.

As typical of his instinctive and sentimental nature, each and every last one of Kuronue's clones went after their sacred treasure and, for a couple of moments, their minds became one, strangely sharing the same feelings of determination and stubbornness despite the circumstances of their existence. A bright kaleidoscope of reminiscence flooded their harmonized psyche; a veritable torrent of memories from their shared lifetimes with Youko Kurama.

There were several rumors behind the reason why Kuronue was so fond of his ruby pendant, some of it intertwined with the theory that Youko Kurama had something to do with it. There were demons who postulated that it was a family heirloom, while others said it was a hypnotizing tool, and at least one Makai historian alleged that it was formed by the merging of parts of Youko Kurama and Kuronue's souls.

The reality that it was merely Kuronue's first ever "catch" that the youko let him keep might seem a bit benign and bland compared to the other more interesting stories, but this simple truth held a special place in the Dark Raven's heart.

Soon enough, one of the myriad of Kuronues was able to catch the trinket before it fell into the pool, saving their-_his_ beloved memento that signified his undying loyalty and devotion to Kurama and his cause, however insane or whimsical it might be. They collectively sighed in relief.

Alas, they never even had a chance to escape as Kurama hit them with an entire forest of Hydra Bamboo spears just as they were about to turn and finish the hapless Hiei off. Kurama intentionally made the Kuronues pursue the pendant in order to skewer them en masse without a single possibility for survival. Why? Because Kurama didn't want Hiei to become a shattered soul like himself and Shuichi Minamino, which forced him to sacrifice one of his most loyal and dearest of friends.

About a couple of Kuronues died immediately upon impact of the horribly ironic and trite death trap. Others gurgled incoherently before meeting their demise. At least one, the Kuronue who caught the pendant, hollered with a coarse and bitter tone filled with confusion, betrayal, and righteous indignation, "No. NO! Why, Kurama? WHY? I-I wanted to be the one who filled your dark soul... with LIIIIIGGHHTTT!" before succumbing to the inexorable.

Kurama had finally made his decision between Heaven and Hell, and with it came his quest's first ever collateral damage. It didn't quite sit well with him at all.

Meanwhile, Hiei himself fought off the silken darkness that draped itself over the edges of his blurry vision. He had a close call there; it was a good thing he'd closed off his ki-flow before his battered ghost literally became the next shadow man to haunt the three worlds. The kitsune's change of heart and betrayal of the Tetsuma ersatz probably helped as well.

The jaganshi's eyes burned with the single-minded passion to complete his retribution against Munashii by having him fail to get the "Minamino Shuichi" whom he so desperately wanted. Hiei had already killed the damn freak of nature, so rescuing Kurama was merely the final nail to the coffin Munashii should've stayed in from the very start. It was too bad Hiei's spirit equally burned in agony and anguish in turn. He winced as he slowly got up. Each and every movement took the breath out of him in his utter pain and suffering.

"K-Kurama..." Hiei began, but then gasped. He was having a hard time breathing.

"Hiei," Kurama beckoned, nearly whispered.

Hiei's knees buckled, the pressure of even his own ghostly weight too much for his weakened state to support. The half-breed cursed his apparent moment of weakness, then looked up just as Kurama did the same.

Hiei and Kurama's eyes locked, and an unsaid conversation took place between them. The jaganshi was no mind reader, and Kurama wasn't exactly sharing any worded thoughts, but the acquiescence and acceptance in those grass-green eyes were unmistakable.

The koorime-born youkai made his own choice right then and there: He was going to save Kurama's soul even if it was the last damn thing he'd ever do.

Just as Hiei was about a yard away from Kurama, the last Kuronue to die snapped his eyes wide open and tightly gripped the pendant in his closed fist. "Y-You dare betray me? ME? How dare you! I'LL KILL YOU BOTH!" he cried as he picked up his scythe with his other hand and chopped the protruding bamboo stalks off of his body, extricating himself from the death trap and flying straight between Hiei and Kurama.

Hiei nearly fell again as he tried to defend himself, much to his frustration. He had to face facts: He was about as much a threat to Kuronue now as that floating hologram of Asuka Matsui was, given his condition. That was the truth, and he hated every minute of knowing it.

But that didn't even slow him an iota as he unsheathed his blade, leaped up, and let gravity do the rest of his work for him as he stabbed his sword forward.

What happened next was something Hiei could probably never understand even after a whole millennium of deliberation. Just as his sword miraculously ran Kuronue through, Kurama moved forward and wrapped his arms around his the Raven, feeling the tip of Hiei's blade plunge into him as well. Smiling in ecstasy, the redhead muttered, "At last. The one, true death strike."

Hiei dropped to the ground, a dazed stare etched on his appalled features. Just when he thought the worst of it was through, Kuronue started to speak.

"How was that, Kurama? Was my performance convincing?" Kuronue either choked or laughed afterwards, the warbling sound he made caused by the gurgle of blood in his throat. "Looks like everything more or less moved according to your plan. Sure, there were a couple of hitches here and there, but you've once again proved that you're a strategist beyond compare. Bravo, old friend."

Kurama embraced his ex-partner tight, his head resting on the Raven's shoulder. "I apologize for making you go through this, Kuronue. Because of my capriciousness, I've forced you to do all sorts of horrible things."

Even when he was at the point where he shouldn't be able to speak, Kuronue mustered the will to respond, "I hope to see you in hell, even if I have to drag you out of limbo just for you to get there." With the last of his strength, he took out Hiei's sword with his free hand and fell into the bottomless pool of the River Styx's waters, his grip on his pendant never loosening.

Hiei trembled as he stared at Kurama in disbelief. "Fox, you...!"

Kurama chuckled lightly, rasping, "You've gotten what you wished for in the end... Eh, Hiei? You got your death match at long last."

"You fool! I was trying to save you!" Hiei protested, but Kurama merely giggled at the jaganshi's stumbling words. "If you think this is over, then you're living in a bloody dream world!

Kurama looked up at Hiei with unseeing eyes. "You know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. Dreams save us. Dreams lift us up and transform us. Let this one dream of mine become reality, then. I welcome it."

"You're such an idiot! How can you do this to that woman you call 'kaasan'? To your family, whom you were willing to abandon your Makai life for? To all those friends and comrades in that school of yours? To Yusuke, Kuwabara, Botan, Koenma, and every single damn person whose lives you've touched? Most of all, how can you do this to _me_?" Hiei raged in frustration over Kurama's inability to see the imbecility and needlessness of his death.

Kurama smilingly shook his head. "You're being silly. Hasn't it occurred to you that my actions are actually those of a dying man? Saying good-bye to loved ones, tying loose ends in both of my lifetimes, making sure that life goes on without me in the form of a newborn child; did those simple facts escape your notice, koorime?"

Automatically, Hiei corrected, "Don't call me koorime. You know better."

"I'm sorry." Hiei didn't quite know which sin Kurama was apologizing for, because within the context of what had happened so far, "sorry" was quite the loaded word.

* * *

_So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near..._

_"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."_

_"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."_

_"Yes, that is so," said the fox._

_"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince._

_"Yes, that is so," said the fox._

_"Then it has done you no good at all!"_

_"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:_

_"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say good-bye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."_

_The little prince went away, to look again at the roses._

_"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world." _

_And the roses were very much embarrassed._

_"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you-the rose that belongs to me._

_"But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose."_

* * *

_At the very end of Kurama's convoluted death scene... _

A pregnant pause passed between the two demons. Swallowing back his tears and blood, Kurama ventured, "Have you figured out the meaning of my death scene? Why I chose to pattern it after a chapter of some 'bedtime story', as you put it?"

"Goddamn it, Kurama! Who the hell cares? We better get you back to the surface; maybe Koenma or that blue-haired ditz has something to treat your wounds," Hiei shouted in a rare display of panic and worry, but Kurama wasn't really even listening to him at that point.

"Asuka-san tamed me, Hiei. Living her life has tamed me. You say that I had compassion long before I occupied Minamino Shuichi's body? Perhaps. But the Youko Kurama of the past would never have been manipulated by his opponents using his own mercy against him. No, that feeling was alien to him. This girl inside my heart has showed me another side of life that I should have never known, and for that I owe her far more than my life. She is my rose. She was just some other human girl among millions of human girls, but she tamed me, and now she is unique to me in all the world.

"I've lived far too long now, and have done everything there is for me to do. To continue on living at my age is unnatural. Death is unavoidable, and I'm sick and tired of running away from it. You're young, Hiei; you still have your life ahead of you, and so will Asuka-san. People like me and Kuronue are relics of the past. Life goes on. I've spent the past sixteen years trying to find a worthy cause to justify my second chance at life, and I think I've finally found it."

After hearing Kurama's lengthy diatribe, Hiei quietly muttered, "So did you plan this all along as well?"

"...Yes." His glassy eyes downtrodden, the wheezing Kurama requested, "I know it's selfish of me to ask, but if you don't mind, can you finish what you've started?"

Hiei grit his teeth, unaware of the single piece of black pearl that fell on his cheek. With a combination of indignation and franticness he'd never pegged himself to possess, he cried, "Damn you! How dare you turn me into your puppet!"

"Hiei, please..."

Hiei growled as feelings of frustration, sorrow, anguish, and regret contorted his face. He then looked at the half-youko's ecstatic face in complete disgust.

"...Kurama, you sick bastard."

With that, Hiei cut Kurama's head, bathing in a rain of the red-haired spirit's blood and ectoplasm. From there, he screamed in anguish as the demon-made cavern around him collapsed upon itself. With a sound like the ringing of a hundred bells of glass, the whole world burst apart into a million tiny little motes of stardust.

The bleakness of space better allowed the stardust to hang in the air around it, and fill it with a soft radiance that made sunlight feel like a cheap imitation. The void let out a breath of childlike wonder at the sight, bright and wispy dots of light drifting all around it like ethereal snow.

Just like with Kurama's childhood friend, Maya Kitajima, the ghost of Asuka Matsui straightened her body from its cramped posture and opened her green eyes, breathing her first breath in centuries. She then stopped levitating altogether, falling into the dearth of existence like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

'Until next time, old friend,' Hiei dully said as he and the rest of the illusory world around him vanished into perpetuity.

Kurama's death scene was finally complete.

* * *

To be Concluded...

Next: Epilogue.

Lengthy author's notes time, yo.

In regards to the wavefunction and quantum physics thing, just search the web for "Super Mario and the Many-World Interpretation of Quantum Physics". Interesting article, though I obviously made a couple of literary liberties in applying that theory in this story's context.

In regards to the ending of this chapter, let's just say it's inspired by one particular anime: Magic Knight Rayearth. How so? Here's a clue-the season ender of the first season. Oh, CLAMP... I won't mind your penchant for bishonen and your hordes of fangirls as long as you keep on writing good, character-driven stories.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Tandaan ninyo ang pangalan na ito,  
Abdiel

* * *

_Shonen Outtakes, Take Two..._

His non-implanted eyes narrowed, Hiei thumbed at Kuronue's direction and impertinently asked Kurama, "On that note, who really gives a damn about Kuronue anyway? He's a hastily introduced character who barely has a back story, is shallower than a puddle, died a very stupid death, wears a funny hat, can be beaten by Munashii in a personality contest, and is connected to your quest through the most tenuous of means! Do you really want that sort of guy to act as your executioner? How low can you go? Let me remind you that this is the man whom you convinced to kill you after you told him a bedtime story. A _bedtime story_."

Even from afar, one could almost hear the tightening of Kuronue's head veins and muscle sinews. 'K-K-Karasu-wannabe? Shallower than a puddle? Funny hat? DIED A STUPID DEATH? Why that little...!'

Kurama couldn't help but feel a large drop of chagrined sweat form at the back of his head, in spite of the fact that his head full of thick, red hair acted as a natural barrier between his sweat pores and the open air. "Hiei..."


	25. Epilogue: Last to First

_On the night of the first day of winter..._

"Shuichi-san!"

Maya Kitajima woke up with a start. As she rubbed her eyes, she saw a ceiling... a familiar ceiling; her ceiling. She continued to stare at her room's ceiling in confusion.

The memories in her head were blurry, but her visceral feeling of nostalgia was well-defined.

"Shuichi-san is the name of a friend of mine back in Junior High." Maya grabbed her head as she felt the onset of a shooting headache. Wincing, she thought, 'But why would I...?'

The blurry memories slowly but surely cleared up as the truth made itself known.

"Who," she started tentatively as she brushed away the loose bangs over her eyes, "is Kurama?"

* * *

**Shonen**

A Yuyu Hakusho fic

by Chester Castañeda

Well, I'm not quite the newbie anymore. Nevertheless, all comments and criticisms are still acceptable... and appreciated. ^_~

Disclaimer: Yuyu Hakusho is the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. This fic therefore also belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV, and St. Pierrot. I doubt they care.

* * *

**Epilogue: Last to First**

* * *

_A year later, after the longest night of Shuichi Minamino's life..._

A subdued and bespectacled pony-tailed girl strolled towards Teikokou Kogakuin Shiiou University (Teikogashin for short), conversing shyly yet happily with her college friends Maya Kitajima and Chiho Sasae.

Yes, _the_ Chiho Sasae-infamous Ice Queen of Meiou High, the progenitor of the Legion of Minamino Shuichi, and Lord of the Gossip Grapevine-was now a freshman in college. May God, Buddha, Allah, Jesus, Zeus, Odin, and Krishna have mercy on the poor souls of the Teikogashin student body.

The still-gaudily dressed and eccentric Chiho was discussing to her friends how her brainchild, the Legion, had developed from merely being a lowly fanclub for Minamino Shuichi... the man, the myth, the legend... into a veritable force to be reckoned with in all of Meiou High, with almost the entire female population of that school's student body signed up for the now-unofficial school club.

As a by the way, the Legion had long ago been pushed out of the roster of official Meiou High clubs ever since Chiho, the former president, left for college; her father, Principal Sasae, immediately had the student council ban the ostentatiously useless and topical organization from engaging in any further activities within the school campus ASAP.

In any case, regardless of the Legion's dubious standing in Chiho's former private high school, the pure image of the pretty boy-based mostly on Shuichi's knight-in-shining-armor reputation-continued to be cultivated in the pseudo-club, with its brigade of squealing and rabid members scouring the entirety of Mushiyori City, or even Tokyo, or even Kanto, or even Japan, or even Asia, or even the rest of world, to find men who fit this very aesthetic.

Whether these men were real or fictional, criminals and/or politicians, sportsmen or intellectuals, singers or actors or dancers or all of the above or none of the above, the Legion made it their mission to let their love and adulation be known to these people, or at least have it manifest in an eighty-page boy's love doujinshi that they'd sell to Comiket every August and December. Such was life.

"It's kind of bittersweet, really. Of all the ridiculous clubs the Student Council can get rid of... the tragically useless, X-files-obsessed Paranormal club, or even that stupidly named 'The Society for the Study of Modern Visual Culture' club that's obviously just an excuse to watch and discuss cartoons and comics all day... they got rid of my precious Legion! Can you believe that, Midori-chan? How dare they!" Chiho lamented to the mousy girl beside her. Unfortunately, she wasn't really talking to the Legion's former secretary at all.

The timid redhead perspired in mortification. "Um, Chiho-san? That's not my name. My name is Asuka, remember? Matsui Asuka."

"Oh, yes, yes. I almost forgot. Sorry, you keep reminding me of an old friend of mine back in high school," Chiho hastily waved off, her large, eighties-era earrings tinkling like chimes as she felt a wave of nostalgia flood inside her.

She wistfully looked up to the open sky, briefly wondering what had happened to her freakish yet loyal friend, Midori Ohya. Then, just as quickly, she shrugged the feeling off; she'd mended that bridge already, so it was time for her to move forward.

Asuka pouted as she adjusted her glasses. She'd be more tolerant of Chiho's faux pas if it had occurred far less often than it did. One of these days, she might eventually have to change her name to 'Midori' just to accommodate Chiho's repeated use of the name.

"_Anyway_, the loss of the Legion's official status as a club is really a blessing in disguise, come to think of it. Because it's not limited to Meiou any longer, it has now started to branch out, moving outside of my former school's jurisdiction and into other schools and districts! Oh, I'm so proud of my baby! They grow up so fast! By my estimations, the Legion would've weeded out and exposed every last bishonen on the planet by the end of this decade!"

"Yeah. Amazing. It's become like a disease, almost," Maya... the most normal one of the trio, with her not-too-reticent-yet-not-so-obnoxious attitude... chimed in deadpan. She still couldn't quite figure out how she'd ended up befriending the loud and unbecomingly rambunctious girl, but she only had herself to blame for hanging out with Meiou's Ice Queen.

To her horror, Maya found herself getting more and more used to Chiho's antics as the days went by. Even though familiarity usually bred contempt, if contempt was already there in the first place, then familiarity sometimes found a way to breed tolerance and desensitization instead. Funny how that worked, huh?

Given the golden opportunity to showcase her Ice Queen persona to her newest posse, Chiho Sasae dramatically pointed at both her Midori-and Yumiko-substitutes and declared, "Disease? Disease, you say? How naive, Yumi-chan! It's actually our world that suffers from a disease, and the Legion is the only cure for it! Oh, if only there were more noble, hot, and gorgeous men like Minamino-sama on this planet, then they would totally improve the human race!"

* * *

Yumiko and Midori sneezed together in unison, then excused themselves simultaneously. They afterwards laughed at themselves, but stopped once they realized that they were also doing that at the same time. Anyhow, they didn't realize that spring fever included, well, colds and allergies.

"W-ell... that was freaky," Yumiko sniffled as she wiped the receiver of her cellphone with a handkerchief. "You okay over your side, Midori-chan?"

"U-huh," Midori replied, the characteristic sheepishness of her tone loud and clear despite the wavering signal of their mobile phones. "D-Do you think...?"

"Yeah, without a doubt. _She_ is talking about us right now. But never mind that! Guess who's asking me which college you're trying get into? Come on, guess," Yumiko teased Midori with an unseen smirk and an inward giggle as she squeezed her cellphone in between her shoulder and her cheek whilst typing the story outline of the Legion's upcoming Comiket doujinshi. The girl just loved to multitask.

In any case, as the upperclasswoman of the newest batch of Meiou's 'Legionettes', Yumiko felt that it was her responsibility to get them on the right track and show them what the Legion was all about, especially now that Chiho was concentrated on helping branch the Legion out within the university level.

There was just no stopping the Ice Queen's grand plan of Kanto-wide "fujoshi" domination, but the good old girl of dreams and invisible girl were always prepared to help her out in the sidelines, whether she was aware of it or not.

Sure, a story based on "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" with all of the characters replaced by beautiful yet troubled effeminate boys was just empty calories for the squealing female brain, but if angst-filled and angel-winged bishonen didn't represent the very essence of the new-and-improved Legion, then Yumiko had no idea what did.

* * *

Did Maya just think that she was already getting used to Chiho's antics? Scratch that; the bun-haired girl decided then and there that she (and most every other sane person) would never, _ever_ get used to the likes of Miss Sasae. "Matsui, will you please tell Sasae off? She's... doing that thing she does again."

Asuka jumped, then wilted at the attention Chiho and Maya directed at her. "W-What is it?" she asked. "Ah, sorry, what did you say?" Maya repeated herself. "Oh. Um, Chiho-san, you're freaking Maya-san out. Please stop that."

Asuka trailed off uncertainly. She had a secret she'd kept about Shuichi Minamino that she was dying to tell people, but knew she couldn't. Not ever. She thought about telling the other two about it, but Chiho was already talking again. She was now running through a list of bishonen classmates that they knew, rating each one on his potential Minamino-hood. Asuka listened, amused and pensive at the same time.

It was odd, this business, Asuka thought. Unsettling, even. From there, a memory wedged deep inside her psyche that didn't quite belong to her emerged on the murky surface of her mind, rending her heart to pieces as she realized its full implications.

"What sort of spell has that witch cast upon you to make you so... so... obsessed with her? I don't want her! I don't want this Matsui Asuka person as a daughter! It's you whom I want! It's always been you, Kurama! You're my son! You're my Shuichi! Please, don't leave me!"

"Hey, what's wrong with you this morning?" inquired Chiho, snapping Asuka out of her sad reverie in a second. "You look pretty out of it." Then suddenly, she gasped. "I know!" she said theatrically. "You've finally got yourself a boyfriend! I knew you could do it, Midori-chan! Who is it? Is it somebody we know?"

Maya supportively squeezed Asuka's shoulder. "Way to go, Matsui! So who's the lucky guy?"

Asuka lukewarmly joined in her friends' enthusiasm. "Yeah, that'll be the day," she muttered bitterly, but something inside her added, 'At least two people have sacrificed their lives for your happiness. Those two should count, right?'

To the others, Asuka insisted, "Whatever, let's talk about something more interesting, okay?" which promptly made Chiho launch into a long narrative about her plans for world domination using pretty boys and the fanatical girls that love them... or something to that effect. She never really did make a lick of sense to either Asuka or Maya.

Maya rolled her eyes. Only Chiho would think that slender girly-boys were far more interesting than their shrinking violet of a friend actually winning the interest of men and finally gaining a love life. But then again, that was Chiho all over. The smartest yet most bishonen-obsessed girl Maya ever knew; she could never stray from that one topic for more than five minutes.

But Maya was one to talk; the reason she got into Teikogashin and banded together with the likes of Chiho Sasae and Asuka Matsui in the first place was because of the persistent rumors that a certain elusive redheaded childhood friend of hers had decided to enroll in this very university. From the time when she gained admittance to Teikogashin, she'd been searching for Shuichi Minamino far and wide on the campus, meeting both Chiho and Asuka along the way.

Maya swore that one of these days, she would find where Shuichi-no, _Kurama_ was hiding, and once she did, he most certainly had a _lot_ of explaining to do.

Meanwhile, the dazed and confused Asuka walked on with her compatriots, trying to appear interested in what Chiho was saying. They then came up to the gates of the Main Building, where they were supposed to split up and go to their respective colleges.

As they passed through, Asuka glanced up and was surprised to see a phantom of what appeared to be a young delinquent boy sitting just inside the gate, staring at her. That was odd.

'Small boy,' something inside her said. But what was so special about a small boy?

She shook her head, bewildered, still looking at him. His eyes followed her as she went past, and she almost thought he seemed as surprised to see her as she was to him. Realization then struck her hard as she did a double-take and saw the boy disappear before her very eyes. She shrieked.

"Hey, Midori-chan! I mean, Asu-chan! Hang on!"

"...What's the matter, Matsui? Is something wrong?"

"G-G-Ghost! I think I saw the ghost of little kid!" Asuka cried to the bemusement of her two friends as she clutched their sleeves tightly. Of course, the irony of being afraid of ghosts when she was one just a year ago was lost on her.

* * *

The dark silhouette of Hiei stared after Asuka from a more secure vantage point, stunned. 'After all these months...' he thought. Who would've believed it? Oh, he'd doubted Kurama's so-called quest from the very start to its very last stages. He was certain that it would fail, that Kurama was doing something supremely stupid and senseless-a potential "shaggy dog" story in the making, leading to a pointless sacrifice and a wasted effort.

But somewhere deep inside, he had not been sure. He tenaciously kept up the search for Shuichi Minamino once he recovered from his epic yet failed battle to save Kurama's soul hour after day after week after month, willing to continue even if it would eventually take him year after decade after century after millennia, because he wanted to be _sure_.

'Kurama,' he thought. 'You managed it after all.' He had seen the girl clearly; seen the moment of recognition in her eyes. _Felt_ the spirit within her. 'You did it. You sent her forward, had her be reborn yet again.'

There could be no further doubt. Not any more. Because the girl he had just seen-the shy girl with the glasses and ponytail of chestnut hair-was the living image of Kurama's human self, Shuichi Minamino.

* * *

_Speaking of which, later that day, in one of Teikogashin's many cafeterias..._

Shuichi Minamino stared blankly at the perky little blonde tartlet in front of him. Believe it or not, during the past few semesters he'd spent at Teikogashin as a self-sufficient college brat, this particular issue had become as old as... well, it was _really_ old. He braced himself for what was to come. 'How can I put this gently?'

"Well, did you like the chocolates?" the college kogal with golden curls eagerly chirped, expectation clear in her voice. "I mean, I know it sounds childish, but please don't think of them just as 'duty' chocolates, okay?" The girl winked. Shuichi's face turned blue at the implication. 'This all seems strangely familiar.'

"To tell you honestly... the chocolates were delicious... the flowers were nice... but I'm not so sure about the puppy..." Shuichi tentatively began, completely bowled over at the amount of disposable income the girl was wasting on him.

She didn't even know the proper gift to give to him; though the flowers were indeed nice, receiving presents from her was like having a thankful tabby cat offer him dead mice and carrion in gratitude. The sentiment was nice, but he had no use for such shallow knickknacks.

"Well, besides the puppy, are we good?" The girl fluttered her long, golden lashes, showing off her garish silver eye shadow and sending cold shivers down Kurama's spine. His left eye was already twitching, and it took his entire willpower to prevent himself from losing what little lunch he had already eaten.

This was already forming into a scene taken straight from a commercial manga. A sadly trite girl's comics, to be exact-not that Shuichi read such tripe. That was more his old classmate Yumiko's shtick, really. He sighed dejectedly.

"But I really can't accept them," he said simply. Even though he loved roses in general, he didn't like getting them under these circumstances.

"Nonsense!" cried the girl, a spark of hope lighting up inside of her despite the rejection. 'So, he's one of those shy, quite types... I love those! And he's so hot to boot!' she thought ecstatically.

"Because..." Shuichi continued, totally ignoring her machinations, "I'm really a girl."

"..." the girl wittily retorted. "R-Really?"

Shuichi looked away and scratched his nose. "No, not really. Actually, I already have someone else." Another lie.

The redhead felt the cafeteria's room temperature drop down to a few degrees or so. "Tell me the name of the harlot, Minamino-sama," the girl demanded, cracking her knuckles in typical delinquent fashion.

Shuichi gulped, then admitted, "H-Hiei." If he was going to think up of a name, then it might as well be someone who can defend himself.

"Hiei, huh? Must be some sort of fat, big-boobed cow if she had the audacity to name herself after a mountain! She might as well be named 'Fujiko' for all I care! I'll get her, or my name isn't Kotubu-Hey, where are you going?" the kogal cut her rant short after seeing Shuichi scuttle away like a crab towards the exit, right under her nose. "Oh, no! Minamino-sama! Is Hiei really that good under the sack? Because I swear that I can do better! In fact, I even-"

Blocking out the rest of the girl's rather explicit boasts in regards to her oral talents and bedroom prowess, Shuichi sighed as he ran far, far, _far_ away from his latest fanatical admirer. He was never too keen on hurting people's feelings... or bodies... unless necessary, but on the other hand, that was the first time he'd ever felt tempted to hit a girl in all his life. Sometimes, even with the best of intentions, you just couldn't win.

Ever since he enrolled in Teikogashin, Kurama's days had been like this. He had more than his share of devotees even back in Meiou High, but their numbers didn't exactly dwindle once he got to college. It certainly didn't help that Chiho Sasae, of all the girls in Japan, had followed him all the way to this particular university. This was most certainly not a coincidence. Some things never change, but then again, there were some things that needed to change; preferably this dire situation he was currently in.

It was a taxing situation for Shuichi Minamino, good human son of Shiori Minamino, but his groupies were not the only ones at fault here. His short, red, yet feathered hair wasn't helping matters, but to let it grow to its original length would mean that he'd be back to the situation where he'd have to stave off the advances of his _male_ fans. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't, eh? What a tragic Catch-22 for him to be caught up in.

So he decided, once and for all, to simply ignore such things. If they all thought of him as a suitable target for male and female affection... with some alleging that he might as well entertain both sides of the fence _at the same time_... then that was their problem. He was above such things.

"Hello, miss... You seem all alone. May I accompany you?" a deep, sultry voice intoned.

"..."

So much for thinking that his shorter haircut was going to help keep the men away from him. At any rate, Shuichi was still a human being deep in his heart. Who could blame the guy for getting pissed off once in a while? Even he, as long a fuse as he had, had his limits.

"I'm a guy, and I'm not interested. Now please leave me alone," Shuichi said in a calm, unnerving voice as he turned to see who was currently dogging him. To his surprise, he wasn't confronted by some misguided boy seeking his tender, loving care, but a girl who'd lowered her voice to about the same decibel range as his. Furthermore, he actually recognized her.

"M-Maya-san?" Shuichi accidentally let slip before he could pretend to not to know her.

Arms on her hips, Maya glowered at Shuichi for exactly one second before slapping his face hard. "I've been looking for you, Shuichi-san. Where have you been?"

* * *

_A few minutes later..._

"...So that's how it is."

Shuichi fidgeted a bit after lengthily explaining himself to the stunned and flabbergasted Maya. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"B-But... But that's not fair! You've taken away all my memories of you to protect me from danger, but as soon as I finally got those memories back, you went ahead and pulled this stupid stunt on me! How could you?"

The smaller girl buried her face into Shuichi's chest, halfheartedly striking his shoulder with her fists as she murmured, "It's not fair..." over and over.

They stayed like that for quite sometime before Shuichi was forced to extricate himself from Maya's firm grip. "I'm really sorry, but that's just the way it is, Maya-san."

Maya sniffled, avoiding eye contact with the redhead. "So Kurama is..."

Shuichi nodded. "Dead."

Maya shut her eyes and exhaled, a single tear falling on her cheek. "I see. But he was real, wasn't he?"

Shuichi nodded again. "In the hearts of many, including mine, he is. He's the reason why I exist, even. I can never forget him."

Maya looked at the boy in front of her and bit her lip. So Kurama was real. The boy she'd loved once upon a time was no longer of this earth, and from then on, she had to learn how to deal with that fact, but she could still cherish the childhood memories she shared with him regardless. Because Kurama was real.

For whatever it was worth.

No more words were exchanged between Maya and Shuichi that afternoon as each went their separate ways, their heads filled with sobering reality of death and irrevocable loss.

* * *

It's been quite a few months since Shuichi had seen Hiei. After the recent events involving his rebirth... Munashii's death, Yusuke and Kuwabara's bloody war and Kuwabara's first win against Yusuke, the long good-byes Kurama had with his loved ones, Kurama's final stand with Kuronue, and Hiei's pivotal yet involuntarily involvement in Kurama's death scene... the koorime-born fire demon was nowhere to be found.

At the back of Shuichi's mind, he wondered if perhaps Kurama had gone too far in using Hiei and accidentally caused his untimely demise. But, instinctively, the redhead deemed that this was not the case.

Shuichi anxiously made his way back to his current residence, scenes unfolding before him as though they were mere hazes and blurs to his troubled mind. Thankfully, it was a mostly uneventful walk back home, and as he entered his apartment's entrance, everything eventually became clear once more.

Seconds ticked as he stared wordlessly at the doorknob. He heaved a heavy sigh as he finally allowed himself to contemplate the situation, revealing his innermost insights and feelings.

The fact that Shuichi hadn't seen Hiei in a long time was getting him upset... and a little uneasy. Sure, he'd already moved out of the Minamino (now Hatenaka) residence as soon as he graduated high school (and despite his parents' protests), got himself a menial job tending a flower shop in order to support himself, and rented his own apartment nearest to Teikogashin for the sake of his college education, but he still didn't expect Hiei to take _this_ long to find him. Perhaps the demon was delaying their meeting on purpose just to spite him?

Then again, Shuichi wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting Hiei-not after what Kurama put him through. Also, the jaganshi wouldn't really be looking for _him_; no, he'd be looking for _Kurama _instead. Besides, what could he possibly say to Hiei once they meet? "Hi, I'm Minamino Shuichi. Nice to meet you, even though I kind of know you already. By the way, sorry for indirectly making your demon partner commit suicide just so I could exist in this world."

Pushing his morbid thoughts aside, Shuichi opened the door and went in his sparsely furnished quarters. He carefully avoided looking directly at the room, afraid to see something, _anything_, that would remind him of Hiei's frequent visits to Kurama-his other self, the man who both saved and cursed him at the same time-a years ago.

"Hey, kitsune. What's with that lonely look on your face?" Hiei scoffed in his usual stoic voice as he sat on the open window sill, idly polishing his katana as his mostly raven-black hair wafted through the cool breeze.

Shuichi looked at the fire demon in front of him, completely stupefied. The redhead didn't feel the need to dilly-dally, exclaiming about how Hiei took so long to finally get there and what a shock it was to finally see him again face-to-face.

To be quite frank, the seventeen-year-old didn't know what to expect from the jaganshi. Was he about to die, even after finally gaining his life back through the most dubious of means? Maybe it was just as well; as far as Shuichi was concerned, he owed his life to _both_ Kurama and Hiei.

Hiei suddenly stepped down from his precarious perch on the windowsill and unabashedly embraced the shocked human. This was literally the last thing the redhead expected.

Startled by the unanticipated gesture, Shuichi felt compelled... albeit awkwardly... to hug Hiei back, half-expecting the demon to suddenly set them both on fire, immolating poor ol' non-fireproof him in the process. "W-Where have you been, H-Hiei... san? I-I thought that you died," he quietly mustered as he cringed from the inside.

Not even bothering to address Shuichi's questions, Hiei demanded, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you with that human woman you call your mother?" as he let go of the trembling young man, his crimson eyes directly affixed upon the boy's grass-green ones. It was such a deep stare that the two were soon literally seeing themselves through each other's eyes.

"I... I think you already know why," Shuichi couldn't help but reply, wincing once he realized how rude he sounded. To his shock, he felt the cold bite of Hiei's sword touch his skin, the blade tearing apart his clothes. He shut his eyes; like he'd reflected before, this was just as well. Let his fraudulence end right here and now.

The reason Shuichi couldn't stand going back to the Hatenakas was because he was reborn a charlatan. Kurama had filled the role of good son far more effectively than he ever could, and, as his mother revealed, he was never wanted in the first place. It was Kurama whom Shiori considered as her son, not him. He could never live up to the selfless, compassionate, powerful, protective, and complex man that was Kurama. Never. Not in a thousand, million, or billion years.

To Shuichi's chagrin, Hiei hadn't actually killed him. Instead, something a lot more embarrassing happened. His polo shirt had been cut apart and his pants undone, exposing his bandage-bound breasts and his sock-stuffed boxer shorts... or rather, _her_ bandage-bound breasts and _her_ sock-stuffed boxer shorts.

Hiei harrumphed as he looked at the half-naked, cross-dressing girl before him in disdain. "Is this yours?" the youkai asked as he threw a long, brown wig and glasses at Shuichi's direction. The fire demon had stolen it from the human's backpack while they hugged. The girl nodded in affirmation as she quickly took the wig and hastily covered herself up with it.

Hiei looked up at the ceiling... more out of indignation than out of any sense of shame or decency for the sake of the girl he'd just stripped naked... and wailed to the concealed heavens, "Is this what you meant by changing fate, fox? Damn it, you've made things worse!"

Just then, to the fire demon's surprise, Shuichi said, "I'm sorry. If you think it will make things better, then please feel free to kill me."

Hiei quietly looked at the exposed girl for quite sometime before inquiring, "Why? Did you suddenly feel that you don't deserve to live?"

Shuichi Minamino, also known as Asuka Matsui, calmly got up, took a shower robe out of her closet and wordlessly covered herself in front of Hiei. With that done, she replied, "No. It's not that I feel like I don't deserve to live. Rather, I think living is the least I can do after everything Kurama had done for me. But I still owe you this life as well. You were also the one responsible for my birth, right? Feel free to kill me, because this life is as much yours as it is mine."

Unperturbed by Shuichi's bold words, Hiei queried, "Why do you keep on pretending to be Kurama long after he's dead? You don't need to do this. Kurama had changed your destiny for the better, right? Everyone should have forgotten about Kurama by now, including me. That's the way Kurama's death scene was supposed to work; you living the rest of Kurama's human life as the daughter Minamino Shiori never had. Koenma himself expected as much. Kurama himself thought you deserved as much. The only reason everyone still remembers Kurama the half-youko is because you willed it so. Why?"

It was true. Had Shuichi Minamino let the tides of destiny reassert themselves into her life, things would have been drastically different. Kurama's life as a half-youko would have been completely erased from the memories of all those who knew him; he would've been nothing more than a footnote in the ever-growing list of the magical Book of Fate, with the only thing of note about his entry was the fact that he was the first _willing_ victim of circumstances. Everybody in the Demon World would've believed that Youko Kurama died as soon as he faced the Reikai Hunter had Shuichi allowed fate to have its way. No one would have ever known about his existence in the Human World, not even his family or closest friends.

Also, even though physical evidence of Kurama's existence as Shuichi Minamino could still be left on the physical plane, most people's erased memories would probably dismiss or ignore them as something else entirely, whether the proof was in the form of photographs, letters, video or sound recordings, registries, or whatnot. The human mind naturally filled in gaps and inconsistencies with all sorts of excuses, rationalizing away things that didn't fit with its perceived reality.

"No. I don't want people to forget about Kurama. As jealous as I feel about it, I don't want my mother to forget the son she'd had for sixteen years past. I don't want you or any of the Reikai Tantei to forget your comrade who fought with you in all those tournaments and missions. I don't want Karasu to forget who it was he psychotically loved, and I don't want Toguro Ani to forget who it was that gave him a fate worse than death. Living a lie is a small price to pay for me to honor the man responsible for my current existence."

"You'll have to tell your parents the truth about what had happened to Kurama sooner or later," Hiei noted nonchalantly, his eyes darting back and forth at Shuichi's lithe form, unnerving her a bit. "That's the price you have to pay for not letting them forget about him in the first place."

"Or maybe I won't have to. I can't stand the idea of them feeling the loss of a child when they don't have to. But then again, maybe I'm just afraid of being rejected by them once they find out the truth." Shuichi chuckled bitterly at the thought. "I guess I'm not as selfless as I pretend to be. But if you want, I'll go ahead and tell them. Just don't expect me to ever tell them the truth under my own free will. I just... can't. Not now. Not ever. Please, let their son live on in their hearts for a little while longer."

After a brief pause, Hiei decided, "Then I will it. No more lies. Tell them the truth."

Shuichi smiled emptily at the jaganshi's brutal command. "Do you really hate me that much for taking away your precious fox? What... I don't even deserve death? That would've been a preferable option to what you want me to do."

"As you said, you can't die. You have a responsibility to Kurama to live the rest of your natural life properly, especially after all the things he went through to bring about your rebirth. Besides, you brought these hurtful lies upon yourself. If you're going to try to make yourself into a martyr, then prepare to go full-tilt, unless you want to turn into some sort of pathetic hypocrite," Hiei declared mercilessly as he turned his back on Shuichi and prepared to make his leave.

"Wait! Will I ever see you again?" Shuichi blurted out, surprised by the candid eagerness in her voice. "I know I can never make it up to you, taking Kurama away from you and all, but please... I want to know more about him. Can you help me?"

Hiei raised an eyebrow at that. "You must have all his memories in your head already, or else you would never have known who Karasu or Toguro Ani are. Isn't that enough?"

"I... I... maybe there's someway we can reverse things? Bring Kurama back? I don't know," the redhead faltered desperately, unsure of her own words. That man before her held the answer to her identity, her _true_ identity, and she couldn't let an opportunity like this pass her by.

She tried again. "I want to know more about my father. Kurama. The man responsible for my being. Having his memories isn't really enough, because most of the time, they don't even make sense to me. It's like having all the pieces of a puzzle but not knowing what sort of picture the puzzle is supposed to form. Please... the only way that I could feel complete is by-"

"...AND WHY SHOULD I?" Hiei suddenly snapped, startling the blabbering girl and putting her in her place. "Did you know the reason why I came here? I wanted to see for myself whether or not Kurama wasted his life trying to revive you, and if he did, then I'd be the first one to finish you off. You're just some human girl, among millions of human girls..." He trailed off, unwilling to complete his sentence. Unwilling to stare back at those penetrating green eyes. It was too much.

Before Shuichi could completely recover from her shock, Hiei took something wrapped around of his neck and heedlessly flung it to her. She unconsciously caught it with her open palms, then took a look at it. "This is... a black pearl necklace? None of my father's memories ever showed me this-"

"I'll be coming back for the necklace," Hiei interrupted before Shuichi could finish her train of thought. "If you want to know more about Kurama, find things out for yourself. I suggest you start with your parents and go from there. Don't bother me or anyone else with your problems and learn to face them on your own. That's what living is all about. If I come back and see that you're still a blubbering excuse for a girl who would rather let life trample all over her than live it, then we'll talk about killing you. But I'd rather you _don't_ piss me off by making sure Kurama's sacrifices aren't in vain. Because if you do, then I swear that I'll make you regret that decision. Mark my words, because I hate you enough to do just that."

And with that, Hiei was off. Shuichi was at a loss for words; what else could she possibly have said after that? She was now the one left with a decision to make-to either live the life her father so generously provided or waste it away with guilt over circumstances that could never be reversed. She rolled the ebony pearl in between her fingers, and nodded to herself. She owed Hiei and Kurama at least _that_ much, right?

So eventually, after a month or so of indecisiveness, Shuichi Minamino went back to the Hatenakas and told them the whole truth about their son... the demon fox she'd inadvertently tamed once upon a time, the honorable and relentless man who literally did everything he could to live a full life, from beginning to end... and faced the consequences head on.

Life eventually moved on.

* * *

The End.

Next: Just kidding! (giggles)

I know... very unclear premise... but this _is_ still my first fic ever anyways. ;)

Oh, and just so we can get this out of the way: _"OMG! Kurama has turned into a girly Mary Sue! BOO! HISS! This fic has turned into a stupid Gender Switch fic! This is the WORST ENDING EVAR! BAAAAAAAAAW!"_

(Ahem) Wow. Just... wow. Shonen is the first fanfic I've ever written, and the first fanfic I've ever finished, so this is a special 'milestone' I've established. Yes, I realize that my writing skills aren't as highly polished as many others, but I just _had_ to write this ever since Chimamire Kitsune's 'Kyuuketsuki Hiei' gave me the idea for this fic. If anything, this fic can be considered as action-oriented version of 'Kyuuketsuki Hiei'... plus text formatting and minus some fangirl fanservice or two. The amount of Hiei torture is about the same, though.

When I first wrote this, I was torn between writing an emotional, introspective fic concerning the half-soul Asuka Matsui's slow transformation into Shuichi Minamino, an allegory showing the many facets of human nature a la "Le Peti't Prince", or an action fic interspersed with a multitude of character insights of many a fighter in tune with the source material's style.

In the end, I opted for all of the above by giving these myriad of goals a single focal point: Kurama/Shuichi Minamino's natural-born duality. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine myself succeeding in making this ambitious, heavy-handed, ham-fisted project work, and (come to think of it) perhaps I did fail in making it work. But you know what? Screw that. This business is over.

In any case, this fic is what it is. Even if my lofty goals and the actual end product doesn't exactly match, it doesn't matter. The destination doesn't matter. The journey ends here, and what indeed matters is that I really did enjoy the journey. Redundancies aside, the ride was oh-so-sweet. Yeah.

Thanks to everyone who's been supportive of Shonen from beginning to end. I can only hope that the same amount of support can be given to my next projects, Rurouni Yahiko and Demon Sword/Youtou Shinnoken.

One last thing, although I think it should already be obvious: I didn't bother giving Yusuke and company any focus in the epilogue because they ended up pretty much the same as they did in the special OVAs and the original manga. I reckoned it was unnecessary to elaborate on such wonderful endings. Oh, and don't go just yet, there's a surprise waiting for you after these end notes.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.

Abangan ang susunod na kabanta! Ay, mali...  
Abdiel

* * *

_About three years ago, way before the robbery of the Spirit World's Three Sacred Treasures..._

"Fox," Hiei heedlessly beckoned as he climbed down from the open window of Shuichi Minamino's room.

"What is it, 'koorime'?" Kurama jokingly asked as he sat alongside the diminutive fire demon hybrid.

"We owe each other our lives. The only ones who could finish us off are ourselves. I will be your death, and you will be mine," Hiei stated, not asked.

The fire demon was being random again, Kurama reckoned. Shrugging off the eccentricities of the lone youkai he'd befriended in _years_, the fourteen-year-old smiled and said, "I don't mind being killed by you. Someday, please let me have the pleasure."

There was a ghost of a grin in Hiei's contemptuous sneer. "As the humans say, 'The pleasure's all mine.'"


End file.
